Realm of Secrets
by mozaholic
Summary: Ron hopes his crush on Hermione develops into the relationship he longs for. Harry has a few secrets of his own. Feelings hang high in the air. A friendship never needed to be stronger. (RWHG, slash, some abuserape) Please RR.
1. Stupid Blond

**Chapter 1 - Stupid Blond**

Inhaling the air of arrogance engulfing him, he breathed a sigh and tried to maintain his composure. A flame arose in his cheeks, matching the striking red of his hair, and he clenched his fist, glaring at the Slytherin.

"What's the matter, Weasley?" sneered the pale blond, slouching comfortably between two of his goons. "Has the ministry finally grown wise and sacked your father?"

At this, the two bulky goons murmured in compliance and chuckled to themselves.

He felt his face rise in temperature, and trickles of soothing perspiration roll off his brow. He bit his lip to avoid pounding the three gits. Narrowing his sight into a fierce stare toward the blond and feeling an insistent tugging at his right sleeve, he looked into the anxious face of his friend Hermione.

"C'mon," she pleaded in a lowered voice, "They are just provoking you. Let's go."

He gave a curt nod in her direction to agree, and started heading back up the stairs that led out of the dungeons. When they scaled the flight of stairs, a drawl carried up to greet the irritated redhead, "I'm disappointed in you. I assumed even a Weasley could pick up a pure-blood."

Gritting his teeth, Ron Weasley wheeled around, and nipped down at full speed toward the sneering teen, Draco Malfoy. "Bloody git!" he yelled, crashing into Malfoy and knocking him to the ground. After an exchange of confused looks, the goons, Crabbe and Goyle, scrambled to assist their fallen. Goyle seized Ron's flailing arms and tore him away from the whimpering Malfoy, who stumbled back onto his feet.

"Ron!!!" Hermione shouted from the top of the stairs, now hurrying down to Ron's aid.

"Arg!" Ron moaned as Crabbe continuously punched his stomach forcefully. Squirming around, Ron managed to kick Goyle hard in the knee and break free of his hold. Knocking Crabbe on his arse, Ron slammed Malfoy into the hard corridor wall of the dungeons.

"Listen here, you brute. I don't care what you say about me, or even my family. But don't you dare speak to her like that again, you ruddy fool!" His grip tightening, he waited for Draco's response. Malfoy grunted, his eyes squinted narrowly in detest.

"Good," Ron stated in victory, releasing his hold on Malfoy and trekking back up the stairs, greeted by a stunned Hermione.

Once in the soothing breeze by the lake, Hermione gave Ron an inquisitive look.

"Why did you do that?" she started, "You should be used to his rubbish by now."

Fixated on the Giant Squid, Ron pictured the look on Draco's face as he was pinned up against the wall, defenseless and lacking his dumb counterparts. His reminiscing ended as he took in Hermione's question. He had not thought of what Hermione would say or think after what had happened. Merlin's beard, she could not possibly know, he reassured himself, could she? He swallowed and cleared his hoarse, dry throat in preparation for response, but no words came. "Err……," he concluded, still silently praying that she was not _that _good.

"Ron?" She questioned, now in attempts to meet his gaze. Simultaneously, Ron dropped his gaze and raised his tall, slender body from the ground. He was begging that anything, anyone at all would come to pardon him from this inquisition. He searched nervously, looking for anyone to come his way.

Spotting Ginny, his face dropped. Hermione and his sister shared many conversations and were good friends; she was not the person he wanted to see. One girl was enough to deal with. The Dark Lord would have been better, he thought.

"Ron? What happened?" Ginny asked, now jogging over to meet him. She glanced down at Hermione, and suddenly furrowed her brow in understanding. "Not with Malfoy; c'mon Ron, why would you do that? I know he deserves it, but…"

Ron was now screaming in his own mind. How could he be so stupid to this? Why did he have to be provoked by Malfoy? He was a git as sure as the Dark Lord was evil. He never fought back, until today. Why? Because he had insulted the most important person in Ron's life besides his best mate Harry. But even so, Malfoy has never withdrawn his insults toward her before. The truth was, something happened to Ron when he heard that drawl. _I'm disappointed in you. I assumed even a Weasley could pick up a pure-blood._ What bothered him about this? Well, the fact was that this Weasley could not even pick up a muggle-born. The only girl that he ever really wanted to date. Ron gave Hermione many hints regarding his feelings toward her, including giving her such presents as perfume. Nothing had worked. All she could focus on was his best mate. He just was not good enough, not while Harry was in the picture. His expression changed from desperation to remorse, as he silently scolded himself for his last thought. He's my best mate, he thought, and nothing will change that. Nothing.

"Ron?" Hermione had now paced back in front of Ron, and he raised his gaze to look into her eyes.

"He's just a bloody git."

"Oh no, what has Malfoy done now?" A very familiar voice penetrated Ron's thoughts as he turned to see Harry's concerned face.

"Harry!" Ron finally found his voice and declared his appreciation for his mate. He shot Harry a look, hoping that the young Gryffindor would sense Ron's desperation. Instead of Harry giving him an understanding expression in return, concern adorned his face. "Ron, wha-?"

"He's a git, Harry. Can we just leave it at that?" Ron pressed on, the tips of his ears now glowing a bright red. He rushed past Harry, and headed toward Gryffindor tower, hoping to find the common room before they caught up with him.

Blinking, he fought in vain against the drowsiness that was slowly taking him. Ron Weasley sat by the fire in the Gryffindor common room working on the projects his teachers had welcomed him back with. After writing a foot and a half about the sad tragedy that he will spontaneously combust on 23 October, he gathered his Divination parchment and the other books that were scattered all around. Careening his head to scan the rest of the room, he spotted Harry and Hermione in deep conversation across the room. Harry leaned forward, his right arm drooped lazily over his knee, and gently whisking back wild locks from Hermione's face. Harry slowly inched closer. Ron rose with a start, hitting his knee on the table, and silently cursing at the throbbing pain. Not so much the pain in his knee, but the betrayal he felt in his heart. Stupid, you're overreacting, he attempted to calm himself. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for this. He waited for it to come, staring intently at the pair, but it did not. He snorted, and slouched over to his dormitory.

Resting in his bed, Ron glanced out the window to the moon, and sighed lazily. You probably are overreacting. He rolled over, facing the door of the dormitory, and as sleep engulfed him, silently wished that Hermione did find him out.

"Ron!" She exclaimed, watching the fight that continued between the three brutish Slytherins and the outnumbered Gryffindor. She dashed back down the stairs, just as Ron broke free of Goyle's pudgy lock and pinned the blond against the wall.

"Listen here, you brute. I don't care what you say about me, or even my family. But don't you dare speak to her like that again, you ruddy fool!"

Hermione gasped as Ron dropped his hold on Draco and turned toward her. He sped back up the steps, and she trailed after him. Bursting out of the castle, he stormed across the bridge and finally paused when he reached the lake.

"Why did you do that?" she started, "You should be used to his rubbish by now." She scanned his face for any sign or evidence to guide her to the answer. Sometimes she just did not understand him. He never seemed so effected by Draco, and she certainly never saw him initiate a fight as he did. There was only one other time that could compare to this. When the blond called me a mudblood, she thought, shuddering. But that did not make sense, Ron should be more effected by comments toward himself and his family. What made him so enraged earlier? The only possible connection she could find was that they both involved insults toward her. "Ron?" she continued. She identified the sense of urgency that he raised up from the ground with, and saw that he was deep in thought.

Her thoughts gave way as she heard Harry's low droning voice, "Hermione, I need your help. I…" She looked up to meet his gaze, and a warm smile spread across her face. Wow, this is definitely not another Cho, she thought. Harry, who never had much luck with love, finally set his emeralds on someone else. He was very reluctant, not wanting to fall for another sobbing wreck, and it looked like he succeeded. Now he was crouched over in a cozy chair, asking for advice on how to show his new affection. Guys.

"I just don't know what to do. This is not something that everyone expects from me, you know?" Harry continued, still trying to verbally sort out his issue. "Dunno if the feeling is even mutual."

"Has anything happened that might lead you to believe so?"

Harry pondered for a moment, his brow furrowing in deep concentration. His emeralds shone as his whole face lightened up. A sly grin diffused across his face and he leaned closer, as the common room still held many students.

"Well, there was this one touch," he started, his face changing into a soft red tint. He lifted his left hand, pushing away free-falling locks out of her face. He closed his eyes to recall the interaction but jolted at the loud bang that issued throughout the room. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Ron rubbing his knee and gazing right in his direction, a look of disgust on his face. She read Harry's expression, and peered in Ron's direction. Oh no, she thought, predicting the redhead's aggravation. As he bolted out of the room and into his dormitory, she confirmed her earlier speculation. Turning back to face Harry, she noticed confusion in his half smirk.

"Long story, Harry."


	2. Incident

**Chappy 2 – The Incident**

Sunlight trickling through the tufts of black, Harry drearily opened his eyes and yawned, feeling rejuvenated. He stretched and rubbed his eyes, thinking of his beloved. He sighed, a large grin on his face, and took in the rest of the room. Everyone was either snoring or stirring out of sleep – all except for Ron, whose bed was vacant. Harry shook his head as recollection filled his mind. Ron was still bitter, though Harry did not understand it. Ron was his best mate, and it was unusual that Ron did not share his problem with Harry. Though the redhead was easily tempered, Harry could sense that this was no small matter. Seeing his friend last night, he sensed that he was greatly bothered with something; something that Harry could only assume had to do with him, as the two had not exchanged words since yesterday's incident by the lake. Even though, Harry could tell Ron was hiding something, and this troubled Harry. What have I done? he questioned himself, searching for any conflict Ron may have with him. Harry propped himself up with his hands behind him, his head feeling heavily burdened. It was too early to speculate these things. He needed breakfast first. Easing out of bed, he made to take off his shirt, and was interrupted halfway through by a groggy Seamus.

"Woo! Take it off Harry!" he kidded, swaggering around in his bed like a drunk. He exploded into a fit of laughter, and Harry could tell he had gotten hardily any sleep the night before. He could not blame him, their workload had grown significantly since last year, and it was only the first week of term. Nevertheless, Harry could not help but feel a bit uneasy. How should he respond to that? How?! He responded in the most natural way possible; he tripped on his shirt and lay sprawled across the floor. He joined Seamus' chuckle with nervous laughter, and quickly changed into his uniform and robes. He needed to get out of there to find food and then Ron. He raised himself from the ground, gave Seamus a playful wink and hurried out of the room before Seamus could utter another word. The common room was nearly vacant, with the exception of a handful of first years, exchanging horror stories about events in their potions classes. They shuddered in unison as Harry walked by, and huddled together, continuing their heated discussion of a certain big-nosed professor. Chuckling to himself, Harry combed his way through the other students and found his way to the Great Hall. He hurried over to the Gryffindor table, noting all the occupants. Ginny sat on the end closest to the staff table, giggling at Neville's potato ridden cloak, Dean Thomas sat feet away cramming for what looked like a pop quiz, judging by his twitching and cursing. Hermione sat at the middle of the table, shaking her head and chuckling to herself about her fellow housemates actions. Ron moped at the other end of the table, sneaking glances in Hermione's direction, as far as Harry could tell. He changed his direction and plopped down next to Ron, giving his friend a playful grin.

"Morning, Ron! You are up early today," Harry started, breaking the silence. Ron raised his gaze from his egg-filled fork to meet Harry straight in the eye. He gave off an air of annoyance, and returned a false grin to his mate.

"Yeah, I was just exhausted from yesterday. You were, too, right Harry?" He gave his friend a harsh stare and returned to his food, chewing his eggs absent-mindedly. Harry did not understand him.

"What are you talking about?" He inquired innocently, hoping to solve this unnecessary hostility. He poured a big glass of pumpkin juice and drank leisurely from the cup, content with the Tuesday morning rays flooding the room from the front.

Ron's face turned a blood red as he bunged his fork on his plate. Glaring at his plate, as if to melt it with his gaze, he exclaimed almost nonchalantly, "Well, you know, all the snogging I figured would have left you tired." Ron shot out of his seat and made his way out of the Great Hall, leaving his mate choking on pumpkin juice. "What?! Ron, wait…!" Harry made after Ron, fear stirring in the pit of his stomach. Ron could not possibly know. Maybe he had similar feelings.

"Ron," Harry pleaded, now breaking into a run, "Ron, it was just a kiss or two!" This drew far more attention than Ron's fit. Everyone that knew the Weasley was used to his outbreaks, but to hear about the Boy-Who-Lived's until then nonexistent love life, now that was a different story. Harry paused, letting the redhead escape and exchanged expressions with Hermione, who had no doubt witnessed the whole scene. Pansy Parkinson screwed up her pug-face into an extreme look of repugnance, gagging whilst the surrounding Slytherins chuckle and make kissy faces at Harry. Feeling as though trapped in an inferno, Harry dashed off out of the Great Hall to avoid the inevitable catcalls from the Slytherin table. Running up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower, thoughts invaded Harry's mind. What if he feels the same? What if he is jealous? The fact that Ron would like the same as Harry seemed impossible. In fact, Ron did not seem too keen on anyone, at least not anyone schooling at Hogwarts. Icy sweat rolled down his back, causing him to shiver, and he ripped into the common room. Why had he shouted that in the Great Hall? That blasted Draco was sure to hear him, which was never a good thing. He was to blame for all of this; ever since the fight between him and Ron, Harry's mate had been acting very odd.

Now Ron seemed irritated with Harry's actions, and the fact that he shouted at Ron across the Great Hall did not help. A kiss or two?! You git. What were you thinking? Falling back into his favorite chair by the fire, he rehashed last night in his head. The confrontation went far better than Harry could have expected, or so he thought. Though it was cliché and overly romantic from his viewpoint, he could not fight back the toasty feeling he felt in his chest. In the common room last night, he could not restrain himself any longer. After Ron left, and the rest of the other Gryffindors filed out, Harry finally used his rehearsed actions. Walking over into the corner, he slid his arm across strong shoulders, and drew in closer. Emerald eyes met playful brown. Though the brown was masked with confusion, the owner was not reluctant and embraced Harry. He felt a powerful rush of adrenaline course through his veins and a fire erupted in his chest. Unlike the wet kiss he shared with Cho, these were much more sensual, and gave Harry's lips lustful sparks. His heart pounded quickly and his eyelashes fluttered in happiness. Then, what Harry dreaded the most happened; his partner pulled away from him, licking lips, and broke free from his grasp. A sly grin surfaced on the beautiful face, and Harry had to readjust his stance to prevent falling. Could Ron have been there? Was he watching in the shadows, a flame burning in his eyes? No, of course not. He had darted up to the dormitory. There was no flame buried in Ron's eyes; in fact, Harry had noticed that his eyes had a vacant look about them, and lacked the usual sparkle they normally bear.

"Harry?" Hermione had come up from behind him. He stirred, trying to put out the desire in his heart.

He cleared his throat. "Hermione – what is going on with Ron? Do you think he saw?"

A contemplative look crossed her face, "You mean in the common room. Last night?" She let out a sigh, now certain what she must do. "Yeah, Harry…"

Harry's heart thudded heavily in his chest, and he lost his breath. He could not believe it. No one else had known about last night. How could he be so reckless? Obviously, Ron had set his sight on the same person.

He started rising from his seat, determined to set things straight. "Then I have to talk to him bout it."

"Harry – I don't think that's such a good idea. Let me," she held out her hand, motioning him to stop. "I'll talk to him."

Harry settled back into the chair, playing with his collar and still recalling last night's steamy rendezvous. He did not get much feedback, which was making him worry. Am I a bad kisser? If only he would confront his fears and choose to recognize last night. But he could not. He was afraid of what he would be told. He chuckled bitterly at himself. The Boy-Who-Lived, fear of rejection. I'd take the Voldemort over rejection any day. There was the recurring question that popped into his mind. How should he act now? After the events; he was not sure how to carry on. In public, when the two shared a conversation, it was in all normality – in spite of last night. Harry prayed more than anything that this was not a silent rejection. Harry could not handle that. This morning, there seemed to be no sign of contempt or disgust, but he could not help but doubt himself. Look at me, he told himself, I'm turning into Cho. A weeping wreck. He shook off the tears brewing in his eyes. It'll be okay, he concluded, avoiding insanity only slightly. He took in a deep breath and looked around to avoid Hermione's prying look. She was too good a judge to hide things from, and it was all Harry could do to stop himself from rambling. Why does this have to be so difficult? I thought potions was hard enough.

Just then, a thud and stir from the boy's dormitory drew the pair's attention. Seamus came out, still buttoning up his shirt and fixing his tie. He spotted the two and walked over to the two of them. He gave a very obvious wink to Harry. What was he insinuating? Please, Seamus, just go. Please. Plea-

"Top o' the morning, Hermione! Harry!" Harry rolled his eyes as Seamus walked past Harry, throwing out a not so low key, "Easy, killer."

Harry was now panicking; why did Seamus have to say that? He resituated himself in his chair, very uneasy. Hermione just shook her head and Harry silently thanked his friend, which could be the only one he had with some maturity.

Ron lay on his bed, propped up against the wall, and contemplating his situation. He had undoubtedly seen his friend's escapade last night. He still was uncertain how he felt, and definitely wished he had someone to confide in. However, since this related to Harry, he could not even consult his best mate. He was very bitter and, though maintaining that he cannot hate Harry, he was at a loss for what to do. Ron stared at the blank piece of parchment spread out across his lap, and put his quill to his lips. What was there to say? He was sure there were not enough words to describe the emotions he was enduring right now. Pondering for a moment, he suddenly scribbled letters across the parchment in a rush so as not to lose his thoughts. The letters formed words, words that formed lines, lines that formed his feelings. He sensed the anger uplift from his soul and he continued soiling the parchment with his conscious. The dormitory door creaked open, revealing a very befuddled Harry standing in the doorway. He hobbled into the room and glanced in Ron's direction, and was surprised to see his friend give a half smile.

"Ron?" He advanced a step, and watched in shock as his mate shoved the parchment into his trunk. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, mate, I'm fine," he lied. The fact was, no matter what had happened between the two, Harry and Hermione were always going to be a very crucial part in Ron's life. He had to combat all ridiculous thoughts of hatred and remorse from his mind. He straightened up his gangly figure, and gave his friend a reassuring grin. "Are you ready for Divinations?"

"Er…not quite," Harry sniggered, glad to see his old friend back. It hurt him when he saw Ron tormented and his aid was declined. They shared a laugh and returned to the common room in full spirits, discussing quidditch.

"No way, Krum is going to squish them!" Ron proclaimed, too loudly in his false humor. Maybe this is not so bad. Dunno. Perhaps a façade will hide my feelings until they vanish. And as soon as his seemingly happy self appeared, it shattered into a million pieces on the common room floor. Hermione had risen and met the two halfway between the fireplace and the dormitory. She would find him out; she always knew him too well. Whenever Harry or Ron ever tried to share a secret, she'd always nick it out of them eventually. She offered her kindest smile to him, which he accepted with the utmost appreciation. Even if he was in the most ill of tempers, Hermione always seemed to wipe the anger from his mind.

"Ron, we need to talk," she stated, not losing her calm.

He should have seen it coming. But maybe a talk is what he needed, he nodded approvingly, "Yeah, I agree," he returned softly, for a moment free of the thoughts that burdened him lately. He turned to Harry, bracing his schoolbag and wearing the friendliest smile he could conjure, "Well, let's go spend two brilliant hours of Hooknose." Leading the way out of the common room, he promised himself to abolish all of the foolish thoughts that appear in his mind from now on. Or at least, to the best of his ability. Nodding to himself in compliance, Hermione rounded on him and stepped in front of him in his path. She handed him a pleading look, and Ron understood now was when she wanted to talk. No Ginny, no Harry, no scapegoat. This should be fun, he noted sarcastically.

"Ron, I know what this is about…," she uttered, trying to tiptoe through the conversation so as not to scare Ron off. She knew how uncomfortable and self-aware he was in these sort of confrontations.

He gulped down nervously, trying to replenish his dry throat to no avail. "Yeah…"

"What you saw, it really was not what you think," she continued, though silently cursed herself at how it sounded afterward. Like he'll accept that.

Clearing his throat, he concentrated on his heartbeat, trying to slow it down. "Right..."

The two stood in silence, both uncertain of what was the safest comment to make between the two. Ron always got out of such awkward situations by egging Hermione on. It never failed to snatch her attention and get her initiated in a conversation with him. Though he hated himself for irritating her, he loved the squabble that followed. Feeling her unwavering gaze, Ron quickly thought of something to say to appease her.

"Mental," was what resulted. Mental? He knew it was not the most ideal statement, but it was all he could muster. It was what he thought of himself. Mental.

"What?" Hermione interrogated, though knowing fully well what Ron said.

"He spoke ill of you," was the second dumbest statement. Go ahead, Ron, he thought, spell it out for her why don't you. He searched her face; he imagined her giving an understanding smile, a sort of appreciation, as she memorized the exact color of the floor. When she raised her face back up to his, Ron realized he was not hallucinating. She let out a childish laugh, as if she did not quite understand. She was going to force it out of him. "Excuse me? Ron?"

Brilliant. Now what was he supposed to say? Surely nothing more humiliating than what he had already muttered.

"It doesn't matter," he murmured, focusing on a corner of the ceiling, avoiding the sight of her.

"Tell me." Two words now added to the Weasley list of most horrid words. There was no escaping it now. Out with it, he commanded himself, c'mon. You got her attention right well now, you git. His facial features flashed from agitated to defeat.

Trying the casual approach, "Look 'Mione. He's spent my whole Hogwarts career prodding me about my family and myself. I've accepted it as an everyday occurrence. To tell you the truth, I'd be at a loss if he stopped. But when he talks about you, well, that's a different story…" After that, he felt he could withstand the full army of Death Eaters. It was probably the hardest six sentences of his life. No, five, he thought, I can't even count. The silence that continued after his last statement caused him much frustration. Why wasn't she saying anything? There really should be a book about confronting the female kind. Honestly. He bit his lip; why did he do this to himself? And then the most unanticipated thing happened. Hermione, at a loss for words, reached over, drooped both arms behind his neck, and pulled him in for a very long hug. At least it seemed an eternity for Ron. It was a large leap for them, considering the avoided almost all forms of physical contact. Nonetheless, he accepted and returned the hug happily. He ended it by stating nervously, "Well, err…divi- potions! Potions is going to start…" he stumbled through words and confused them with his thoughts. Who made the English language so bloody challenging anyway? After striding past Hermione, he could not help but wear a very large smile. Wow. He could not put his finger on the turning point in their friendship, from when he saw as nothing more than a nuisance to now, when he saw her in a new light. The sunlight of a very average Tuesday morning at Hogwarts. Though other events may have helped lead up to this, he could clearly recall his animosity toward Krum, who had always been one of his top quidditch players. The Yule Ball during fourth year made Ron reevaluate his emotions toward her. He made a mental note to be the first in line to escort her to the next ball. But one thing still tugged at the outskirts of his mind. What about Harry? What did he witness between the two last night? After this morning, he could hardily believe that last night was not a dream.


	3. Brown Eyes

**Chapter 3 – Brown Eyes**

All throughout double potions, Ron could not seem to focus on Professor Snape's lecture, except for a few words here and there. He could still feel Hermione's embrace, which mixed happiness with confusion toward his mate, Harry. He seemed very preoccupied recently, and very cautious of his actions. He had lost it in front of all houses this morning at breakfast. Just a kiss or two? What was that supposed to mean. Ron invested enough trust in Hermione to believe she would tell him about this; she would, right? In the hallway, he felt they had exceeded the usual friendship they had, and something seemed different. Did she feel the same way toward him as he did her? Or was it all just thoughtful thinking? He slumped forward, and just slightly turned his head to the right, looking past Harry to Hermione. She was taking notes in class, as always, and Ron could not help but wonder why she bothered. She already memorized the book, no doubt. Before facing Snape once more, he let his eyes drop on Harry, who seemed to be contemplating a matter of urgency, judging by his expression. Checking to make sure Professor Snape was occupied, Ron gave Harry a quick nudge in the side with his elbow. Harry jerked back out of his daze and sent Ron a baffled look. Grabbing a spare bit of parchment, Ron wrote a message in the corner for his friend. He indicated the note and Harry leaned over inconspicuously to read it.

What's up?

Clutching his quill, Harry scribbled back fiercely, not wanting to win Snape's death glare, though Harry received it everyday anyway.

Nothing. Just thinking.

Ron chuckled softly at this; Harry never seized thinking about something or other. Professor Snape snapped around, glaring intently at the redhead, who quickly tipped the ink onto the parchment so that Snape could not see the note.

"Mr. Weasley, perhaps you could explain this to the class by yourself. Or is your insolence just overbearing?" A dark twinkle laughed in Snape's eyes; he always enjoyed assaulting a Gryffindor, especially those bearing the name Potter, Weasley, or Granger.

"Err…" Ron started, shrugging to himself. "But Professor, you do it so well without my assistance." He could not believe what he just uttered. His bulged at the idea of detention this early with the likes of the Professor of potions. Snape tore Ron apart just with his prying glare.

"Mr. Weasley, do you even recall the topic of this lecture? Maybe it's too much for your brain to hold; you might think of asking your beloved Granger. Or perhaps detention will give you time to rethink your actions. Surely our King is not good enough for that," Snape sneered at his allusion to the popular quidditch chant that originated as an insult from the Slytherins but finished as a cheer from Gryffindor supporters. Ron, feeling very powerful after all that happened in the first two days of term, and still on an emotional high, looked Snape straight in the twitching face.

"Actually, Professor…I think I recall the lecture now. Were you not just reviewing with us the importance of not adding raven tufts into a love potion? Could it not cause the victim to obtain unattractive features such as an enlarged nose or a lazy eye?" Ron grinned, feeling completely victorious and awaiting the laughter from the Gryffindors that never came. This was because after Ron's statement, Professor Snape's face morphed into that containing much more malice than many could have guessed. Uh oh, he thought; sorry Hermione, but I'm spending the rest of my life cleaning the trophy room. Thank you for being such a good friend; I hope you and Harry have good times together.

"Mr. Weasley, I have a feeling you and Mr. Filch will become very close in the next few weeks. He'll have plenty of tasks to occupy your evening every Wednesday and Friday. Also, you'll be staying after class today. I'm sure Professor Trelawney will foresee you being late to class. Now, let Mr. Weasley be an example of what I do not expect from you all. Turn to page 139."

Ron's anger exploded in the pit of his stomach; he felt the palms of his hands perspire in embarrassment. That would teach him for speaking his mind. He scolded himself for acting so ignorant, in front of everyone. How could he do this to himself and his friends? It was embarrassing for everyone. He nicked a glance in Harry's direction, and saw him grinning mischievously, still lost in a dream. What made him so happy? Now he'd have more time alone with Hermione? He could not resist thinking that. It was too much of a coincidence for him to handle. He found that his thoughts would continuously wonder in this negative direction. After class, he sat in the same position, still eluding as many suspicions as possible. Hermione does not owe me anything; it was just a hug, he repeated over and over. But it was not just a hug for him. Harry and Hermione rose next to him, and both paused, debating whether to stay or leave.

"It's okay, I don't want to share this torment with you two. Go on, I'll see ya."

Harry walked to the door with his grin still intact whilst Hermione stood over Ron, giving him a sympathetic look. He felt his stomach flutter in her presence and fought back all the things he wanted and needed to say; now was not the time. Not with Professor Snape on the prowl. Besides, he was not ready to confront her on that level yet. He shook his head toward the door, and gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll live. Hopefully."

And with that, she hurried out of the door behind Harry, sealing Ron in a prison with his favorite professor.

Harry scanned the Great Hall for the playful browns he longed for. He met them at the other side of the Gryffindor table and raised his eyebrows in delight. It was just the two of them, minus Ron. And neither of them seemed to bother. Harry still had not conversed with the brown about last night, and he felt obliged to tell about Ron's new infatuation. It was strange; Harry never really understood what changed his mind so drastically. At first, for the longest time, it seemed nothing more than a platonic relationship. There were silly jokes and teasing that displayed otherwise, and eventually found Harry head over heels. It seemed very surreal; Harry never took interest of this kind before. He loved all of his friends, and did not ever contemplate life without them. Especially not the owner of the brown eyes. Harry would not let this falter because of Ron's new feelings. He still found them unbelievable; Ron never suggested this to Harry and they talked about everything. A shocking thought broke through all else: what if Ron experienced a rendezvous of his own with Harry's brown eyes? Ridiculous. I would know, right? Ron did not change drastically as Harry had; if he did, it was always negative and not that of bliss. He did seem mad in potions though, he considered, something definitely has taken hold of him. Or he has taken a hold of something. Harry shock his head, as if to empty his mind of all nonsense, and looked up again to see Hermione had moved down right across from him.

"So, Hermione. Uh, how did it…er…go?" He questioned, hoping that Hermione's investigation would put his mind at rest.

"Brilliant. It was about time that matter was discussed." Hermione crossed her arms and leaned on the table, her eyes glinting as Harry found the brown pools once again.

"And his feelings? Are they the same?" Harry pushed on.

"The same?" She seemed clearly confused, which was very unlike her.

Harry could not believe how naïve she was. "The same as mine?"

"Harry, is there something you mean to say?" It was her turn to question. Not him too, she thought. She did at one time have a crush on Harry, but this was one crush she recognized later on to be a love for a friend and nothing more. Harry revealed a jumbled look on his face. I thought it was clear after last night, he thought. Though Hermione was one of his closest friends, he still could not bring it to himself to say it to her face. He panicked, now worrying what was going on in her head. What was she thinking? No evidence was left embedded in her expression. Harry shrugged, not sure of what the best words would be to describe his feelings.

"Well, I would say yes to your answer, Harry. That is, if I'm still a good judge of character," she sniggered, trying to remain light-hearted. Harry did not join her. He still gave a vacant stare; it was taking all that he had to figure out what he was to do.

"Oh," he concluded, licking his lips and planning his strategy. Should he confront Ron? He could not believe how Hermione knew. She never ceased to amaze him. "Right, well. I guess I'll have to sort this out then, eh?" He looked for her acceptance. Her face filled with empathy, as far as Harry could tell. "Don't worry, Hermione. I'll be fine." He gave her the smile she had seen so many times, similar to the one he greeted her with at the beginning of second year. The smile of the strongest person she knew; and someone she always would need to look after. She broadened her uneasy smile, still unsure how to comfort him. Harry rose from his untouched meal, and trudged away. Had last night meant nothing? He felt teardrops tugging at his eyes and wiped them away quickly before more filled his emeralds. This will sort out, he thought. Ron will understand; he has to. If he knew his friend, he knew that he could come out of this confrontation with a stronger friendship than before.

"Thank goodness that's over," he said, approaching Hermione.

"I was worried about you. I still can't believe you said that," Hermione said, in a serious tone.

"Yeah, Ron, it was brilliant! You should have seen the look on his face!" Harry laughed full-heartedly at his friend's truthfulness.

"I did. All throughout lunch and most of Divination," Ron retorted, a trickle of fear in his voice. "He's mad," he shrugged, sitting down next to Hermione's right and peering across the table at Harry. "Who is dying this time?" Ron jested.

"No one. But I see you skiving until about three in the morning before our next Divinations. I also see me slaving over 2 and a half feet of future star movement," the two shared a laugh, both knowing that Harry would be joining Ron's skiving. Harry peered back into the brown eyes that looked in his general direction, and nodded, mostly to himself. He knew what he must do. He turned to Ron, who was diving into his dinner, not even bothering to break for breaths.

"Hey, Ron..?" he successfully snatched Ron's partial attention, though still losing to the food on his plate.

"Mmmm?" Ron responded, still enjoying his meal. He had to skip lunch to spend quality time with Snape.

"Er…can I have a word with you after dinner?" Harry requested as Hermione looked on.

"Shooer. Yeu can haff a phew," he swallowed.

"Great," Harry released a nervous giggle, and was not sure how to get back off the topic. Hermione coughed softly and turned her head to take in the rest of the Gryffindor table. Seamus sat, now in heated argument with Dean Thomas in the popular topic of quidditch. Ginny was engrossed in another one of Nevilles's surprisingly witty jokes. Harry heaved a sigh and glanced back at Ron, who was still exchanging endearments with his dinner. This night would definitely not be amongst the best he has seen.

Sitting in the otherwise vacant dormitory, Ron and Harry traded a few looks before Harry decided to break the silence.

Clearing his throat, he tried to keep a steady glance at his friend, thought it was hard. "Ron, we need to talk."

"Right. About what, exactly?" Ron asked naively. He had his own thoughts of what the two needed to talk about, but was sure that this was not what Harry was implying. At any rate, Harry had requested a private chat with his mate, and that's what Ron was here for. His mate, not himself.

Harry shifted his eyes nervously, trying to get his friend's utmost attention.

"Well, I think you know what this is about Ron. Which is why we need to talk about it."

"What are you talking about? Last night?" Ron felt dread loom in his chest.

"Yes. Last night. What happened last night was something not to be seen or known by others," Harry paused, not sure how to make this sound less insane.

"Harry, have you gone nutters?!" Ron could not contain this exclamation and thus it ensued from his trembling lips.

Harry was taken aback from Ron's accusation, and thus took a moment to gather his thoughts more orderly once again.

"Ron, you have to believe that I did not expect this to hurt you."

"Harry – why did you?" Ron was growing impatience and rather offended that his friend did not seem to take him seriously.

"I was tired of waiting. I never knew you felt the same way as I did toward -"

"Bloody hell, Harry! You did it in front of me, in front of everyone! What made you think I did not?" Ron lost all control of his rage, and tears started welling in his eyes. How dare he lie right to my face, he screamed to himself.

"Hang on -" Harry protested, bearing a questioning look.

Ron was now storming throughout the dormitory, eyeing anything that looked as though it could be smashed.

"I never stop thinking about her anymore! I've liked her for a long time and I thought at least my best mate would know me well enough to tell! Obviously you don't know me at all, or else you don't care about my feelings!" Ron was now screaming in between sobs, and greatly repulsed at his friend's recklessness. His face was such a fierce red that it rivaled that of his own hair.

"Ron! I never saw any minute amount of compassion for Seamus all the years I've kno- wait a minute. Who are you talking about?" Harry suddenly went very pale, and felt ashamed that he had raised his voice in vain.

"The same person you snogged last night! 'Mione!" Ron was now screaming at Harry, his face only inches away from Harry's.

"Ron!" Harry shouted, clutching his friend's shoulders to try to calm him. "I never snogged her! We're not even fighting for the same person, so it seems."

Ron paused, waiting for his anger to slowly subside and his cheeks to turn their normal color. He considered the last few shouts they had exchanged and a look of relief and confusion mixed together on his now tomato red face.

"What?"

Harry patted his friend on the shoulder, and indicated him to sit down. "So at last, we've come to the real matter worth discussing. Ron, you've been my best mate for a long time. We know each other so well, probably more than we know ourselves. Our friendship has grown strong over our years at Hogwarts and I think I can trust you with anything. Which is why I feel so foolish for hiding this from you." Ron shook off Harry's arm that was still resting on his shoulder.

"Harry," he started chuckling, wiping the tears away from his cheeks. "You're talking as though you're –" he paused and thought it out. He gave Harry an understanding grin.

"Yes, Ron. I –" Harry tried to finish his sentence, but was cut off once again by Ron.

"Harry, you're my best mate. We could go through anything together. But, I just don't see you in that way…it'd never work out," Ron stated, with an empathetic touch. "I'm sorry."

Harry could not help but laugh at his friend. All traces of hostility were erased from Harry completely, and he felt once again close to his friend, though not _that_ close.

"Er….Ron? What I meant to say was, I have fallen for a fellow Gryffindor. I'm sorry to disappoint, Ron, but it's not you."

"Oh…yeah, yeah. It's alright Harry, we can get through this together. I'm really sorry, but there is no need not being straig- er, honest with me," he wore the same comforting grin, still not getting what Harry was trying to tell him.

"Ron – you're my best friend, I've never had feelings for you. Not that you're not cute, but I happen to fancy…well…Seamus."

A silence followed the last word Harry uttered. Ron was not sure whether to feel complimented or repulsed. "Seamus?" He repeated, not sure he heard Harry correctly.

"Yes, Ron," he chuckled. "Seamus." The one with the irresistible brown eyes.


	4. Confused Resolution

Wow. I didn't expect such positive reaction to this story – it being my first HP fanfic. Just wanted to say a few things before you hopefully continue to read Chapter 4…

**Autumn Thursday:** It's good to hear that you enjoyed my story. Being a RW/HG shipper, I could never believe any HP/HG story that I would attempt to write. It's exciting to hear that even though I added that to the summary, you were still unsure about Harry's "brown eyes". It was very hard writing up until the end of Chapter 3, excluding Seamus' name from any of Harry's thoughts.

**Bsxjtlg:** Haha. Thanks for being my very supportive first reader! I get so excited I seriously _need_ to update as often as possible, and I even know where the story is going – sort of! Of course, sometimes I have to restrain myself to maintain and hopefully improve the quality of the fic.

**krystagurl04046: **Yay! My first review on ffnet! Thank you! It's cool to think others actually find the little humor I throw in here and there actually funny! It's reassuring.

Once again thanks to everyone who takes the time to R&R! It's so helpful and motivating to hear how other people feel toward my story. You all rock! :)

**Chapter 4 – Confused Resolution**

Ron never felt so ashamed before. He treated his best mate horribly, all over some overly extreme misunderstanding. Git, he thought of himself. He never took the time to consider that maybe Harry was infatuated with someone else. Instead, Ron let his jealousy take too big a hold of him. He lowered his head in shame, trying to think of some way to make amends for what he had done.

"Ron? Are you mad at me? I'm sorry – I wanted to tell you. Dunno. I guess it was just too hard to describe. To tell you the truth, Hermione has not even figured me out, so don't feel too horrible," Harry knelt down to get face to face with Ron. He gave an apologetic raise of eyebrows and waited for Ron's words.

"No, Harry – I feel so foolish. I never thought you may fancy anyone else. But I just don't understand…" Ron trailed off, and coughed, as if to override what he had just revealed.

"Don't understand? Honestly, Ron; Seamus is not _that _bad." His emeralds lit up as his chuckle died away.

A large lump lodged in Ron's throat; he could not work around it. He could not utter the words to Harry to expand his statement. He swallowed hard and felt the lump loosen just enough for him to talk again. "W-w..what happened between….'Mione and….you?" He choked on his own words, and felt relieved when he the lump had disintegrated.

Harry now understood the root of Ron's fears and change in character. He placed his hands on his knees to maintain his posture, and started, "What? You mean…last night?" He dreaded talking about the bloody evening. Ironically, it was the one thing he yearned to talk about the most. Taking the uncomfortable silence to mean yes, he continued, "I was demonstrating to Hermione how Seamus had stroked my locks out of my eyes. I never mentioned a name, and now I'm afraid she thinks you're not the only one who wants her," he added, with a low giggle.

"So n-nothing…happened between 'Mione and –" he was cut off.

"-me, no. I was seeking her opinion. You know how she figures out every secret we ever have. I was hoping she could tell me whether Seamus liked me or not."

Ron breathed a sigh of relief. Harry continued, "So…you really do like her, huh?" He grinned; now their constant bickering made so much more sense.

"Yeah…look Harry, I'm sorry about overreacting. I should've trusted you and 'Mione from the start," Ron concluded, looking for forgiveness within the sparkling emeralds.

"Don't worry bout it. Promise never to keep anything from each other again?"

Ron nodded, "Promise. Now…what are we going to do about your ruddy taste in men?" Ron's eyes retained the brightness they usually possessed, with a flick of playfulness thrown into the mix. They shared a hearty laugh, and Harry once again felt the warmth in his chest.

"Ron, what am I going to do?" Harry asked desperately.

"Snog him, naturally," Ron was beaten with a pillow for that comment. "Alright, alright. Hang on – was he the one you were yelling about in the Great Hall? 'It was just a kiss or two!!'" He pleaded, mimicking Harry.

A sly grin spilled across his face and Ron could not help but look completely shocked.

"Yeah, actually…" Harry smirked, and recounted to Ron what he shared with Seamus. At one part, Ron flopped off the bed in disbelief; he quickly resettled into a sitting position to listen to the rest of Harry's narration. At the end, Ron gaped wide-eyed as Harry looked down in embarrassment.

"So he shares your feelings, then?" was all Ron was able to spit out.

"Er…that's where I'm not sure."

"Right, well…we'll just have to figure this out."

"Yeah…in the meantime, Ron, do you think you can withhold this from Hermione? I want to tell her in my own time. I know how much sway she holds over you." Harry grinned at Ron's expression.

"What are you saying?!" Ron squeaked, but Harry just continued laughing.

Ron strode out of his dormitory in full confidence, breathing in air with a new zest for life. He had fully reconciled with Harry, and now knew that there was no competition, as far as Harry went, for Hermione. I need all the help I can get, he confessed. Hermione raised an eyebrow at Ron's sly grin as he fell back into the cushioned chair across from hers. She waited for Ron to mention anything about the chat with Harry, but nothing came. He just set there, content, and grinning at her. What was he up to?

"Ron? Are you alright?" she asked, afraid he would start dancing in his chair or breaking into random singing.

"Yeah, actually. Thanks for asking, 'Mione," and that was all she received as an answer. He's gone mental, she concluded. It was bound to happen someday. He could not conceal his grin, and he wanted more than anything to tell Hermione what he really felt and thought, but he strained as best he could to avoid doing so. He scanned her movements, analyzing her expressions, trying to decode her every thought. He needed to know what she thought of him. It would drive him mad. If she thought that Harry liked her too, maybe that's why she did not tell Ron how she liked him. Fixated on the strategy he had in mind, he felt it would be fool proof. He leaned forward in his chair, getting a little closer to her, and clasping his hands in front of him, began, "'Mione..?"

She continued to look at him with a bit of fright, still undecided as to what to think of his change in attitude. "Yeah…?"

He dug his foot into the carpet, watching it intently, afraid to look her in the face. "About yesterday, I -"

"I know, I'm sorry. I wasn't aware of it myself. Here I thought he had taken a liking for one of our housemates," she finished, chuckling lightly. Ron returned with a faint stare in her direction. This was awkward, he noted.

"Right. Well. Er…" he murmured, too embarrassed to come out with his question.

"Ron? Are you wondering about this morning…?" She had guessed it right on the mark. It was so much easier, her saying it than him, but now he felt obligated to give some sign of curiosity. He resorted to nodding. The moment of truth, in which his biggest question would be answered. Do I repulse her? Does she like me? Does she see me as a brother? He screwed up his face ever so slightly so as not to seem rude.

"Ron, I –" she started, as Ron leaned in even closer in suspense. Suddenly he heard someone over his shoulder.

"Some day, huh? I'm very glad its over. Have either of you seen Harry?" Seamus had not missed his cue to ruin Ron's moment. He breathed heavily, willing away the urge to slam him right in the conk. He, instead, gave Seamus a very harsh glare, which he did not pick up on. "So, eh, what are you two doing?" he asked, in a very suggestive manner.

Hermione cleared her throat, hoping to break the two up before Ron stuck his wand…

"Harry is still in his dormitory, as far as I know, Seamus." She said it so matter-of-factly and lacking any shred of animosity that Seamus took to prove her right.

"Thanks, 'Mione," he raised himself back to a stance and went off in search of Harry.

Ron leaned back in aggravation, wishing Seamus would find a very high staircase to fall down. He rose out of his chair and made to cross over to the dormitory when Hermione called from behind, "Wait."

He froze in place, awaiting Hermione's next word.

When the gap was defined by silence, Ron careened his head to look back at Hermione, though still unable to move from his spot.

"Yeah…?" Ron questioned, in a low tone thick with hopefulness.

"How did it go?" She inquired, after discarding the first question she meant to ask.

"Harry and me are settled. No big deal." His face fell in disappointment. Why was she avoiding it? Was it to protect him from failure? He did not understand why this was to be so confusing and hard. He wore an uncertain expression as he debated whether or not to bring up the subject. Feeling useless in this conversation, Ron shrugged to himself and headed for the dormitory. Mindlessly, he trudged up the steps and entered the dormitory he shared with a few of his fellow Gryffindors, including Harry. He crept in slowly, peering ahead to avoid any embarrassing intrusions, and found Harry and Seamus standing face to face, in silence. Should I just go back to the common room, he wondered.

"Ron!" Harry proclaimed, discovering his friend gaping in the entrance. Seamus turned back to find the redhead's glance. Seamus started chuckling, and Ron had no doubt what he was thinking about Hermione and him.

"Ronnie, done so quickly?" he laughed, no longer containing his amusement. Ron spotted a sparkle in his eyes as he chuckled at Ron's expense. Harry gave a confused look in Ron's direction, to which Ron just waved off.

"Shove off, Seamus!" Ron retorted, embarrassed at Seamus' insinuations. Ron strode fiercely over to his trunk, and opened it. He groped around until finding his parchment full of notes he hid from Harry. He frowned at the cluttered writings on it, and slumped on his bed to review them. Ron, fixated on the parchment, did not notice Seamus drawing closer to Harry. Grunting, Ron stroked the paper intently with his quill, adding to the ramblings on the paper. Feeling content with his actions, he arose from the bed and shuffled out of the room in need of a walk.

Thank goodness he's gone, Seamus heaved a sigh. His palms were now soaked in perspiration, and he wiped his flushed brow with his cloaked arm. Seamus was now rather uncomfortable and slowly rose his head back to face Harry.

"Aye.." he muttered, unsure what to say. Since last night, Seamus had rethought all of the actions he did and analyzed them for any misinterpretations Harry might get. They had not conversed about the incident, and Seamus' mind was in a different place, far away from Hogwarts. Harry started pacing throughout the dormitory, thankful his shoes were clicking, breaking the silence. Seamus stole a sideways glance to Ron's empty bed. A scribbled parchment lay abandoned on the seats, and Seamus raised an eyebrow.

He inched closer to the bed, and took up the parchment, curiosity getting the best of him. Clutching it in his hands, his eyes darted across the words, and let out a gasp when finished. His fingers trembled as he stared at the parchment. Seamus, though his own person, always had mixed thoughts. He frowned; he still was unsure of last night. Seamus saw Harry as a very good friend, who was both sweet and fun. They had gotten on very well since first year. But Seamus also got on great with Ron. He shook his head in protest, and felt a wave on nausea hit him hard in the face. His nerves were on fire and his throat grew hoarse.

"Seamus…?" Harry questioned softly, drawing closer from behind. "What is that?"

Seamus tried to act as though he had not read this parchment containing no real importance. Clearing his throat, he flung it back on Ron's bed and swiveled on his feet to meet Harry's gaze once again.

"It's some bloody paper Ron left on his bed. Honestly, what are we going to do with him?" he chuckled and shook his head in jest. He swallowed his laughter as his mind dashed back to the situation at hand. Harry had wanted to talk to him about last night; Ron interrupted before they exchanged any earth shattering words. What was he going to say to Harry? This was very awkward indeed.

"Dunno," Harry stated, his face expressionless. Dropping his gaze, he confronted Seamus, "Anyway, we need to talk…"

Seamus nodded, willing away the constant shivering he felt when he was around Harry. As opposed to feeling a steamy warmth, cold always crept on his skin. I need his embrace, he though playfully to himself. A grin spread across his face that Harry noticed, his eyes now intent on Seamus' every action.

"Yeah," Seamus said, now leaning back on Ron's bed, his knees threatening to buckle at any moment. "I have not stopped thinking about it since…" What was that? How foolish do you sound, Seamus? he questioned himself, feeling overly embarrassed. Harry's emeralds shone in his direction, and Seamus was relieved that Harry took it as a compliment. "I never…never knew, heh…" he finished, now blushing.

"Right. Same. What are we going to do?" Harry asked an obvious question, and cursed himself for sounding so insecure. Just before Seamus had a chance for any utterance, they realized they were going to be late for class. They gave each other aggravated looks, both clearly wishing they had more time to sort this out.

"Lunch, Harry?" Harry blinked at this. What was he questioning? Was he asking if Harry was going to have lunch or if Harry would join him for lunch? Harry settled for the most ambiguous word he could pull out of his head.

"Brilliant." Seamus flashed Harry his favorite, suggestive smile.


	5. Not a Name

**Chapter 5- Not a Name**

"Ugh," Ron concluded, sprawling on his bed facedown after an extremely exhausting day. He willed away all thoughts from his mind, not wanting to waste any more energy. Burying his head in the soft sheets, he heard a crinkling and grunted as he ripped out the parchment underneath him. He gaped at it, a stabbing fear growing in his chest; how could he leave this just laying out? Reviewing the writing once more, he grunted and decided what he must do. He needed to deliver this before he became more careless and left it somewhere in the common room. He shivered at the thought of what might result if he did. Seamus would have everyone rolling on the bloody floor, Ron concluded. Rushing out of the dormitory, Ron had his mind set. Clambering into the common room, he concentrated on flushing the red out of his features. His heart was racing as he caught sight of Seamus heading towards him. What do you want, he demanded. Picking up the pace, Ron sped up in hopes that he would miss Seamus.

"Ron – wait…" Seamus started, holding out his hand to stop Ron.

"No!" Ron nearly shouted, jogging past Seamus. Don't touch me, his thoughts screamed. Seamus ran after Ron, trying to get his attention. His slender fingers wrapped around Ron's wrist, tugging him to a stop.

"Seamus, can we not do this now? Shove off, you git! I don't have time for this," Ron exclaimed, pulling free of Seamus' grasp and setting off with Seamus on his tail. Making his way downstairs to dinner, he burst into the Great Hall and crossed over to where Hermione was settling. Shaking off Seamus, Ron stretched out his arm to Hermione, giving her a sincere look while panting.

"'Mione," Ron started, "What do you make of this?"

She wore a concerned look as she slowly slid the parchment out of Ron's hand. She looked confused, as if unsure. Gradually pulling the parchment from Ron's trembling fingers, she glanced down at the words with a raised brow. Tears skid down his face and his lip quivered. He had written it with intentions of slipping it into her bag, not handing it to her. The mystery remained: who had already scanned this? He tormented himself with the countless possibilities. Seamus? Harry? Dean? Neville? His eyes widened; if Neville had read it, Ginny was sure to know. She would not hesitate to leak the information to Hermione. Now he stood there, arm still outstretched, his stomach turning. It was happening; she was reading it - and he was still in her presence. Everything was wrong. He squirmed, fighting to raise his feet, but they remained planted stiffly on the ground. His gaze scanned the room; Seamus was burning a hole through the back of Ron's head with a prying stare. Ron challenged him to draw closer, but nothing happened; he raised his gaze to Hermione's face, which was now streaming with little droplets. This was a good sign, right? Ron wavered, clutching his stomach. It was all he could do to keep from vomiting all over. He never felt so nervous in his life; he shook in his place. Hermione raised her eyes to his and with a fierce sob, threw down the parchment. Struggling to find words, but proving it vain, she stormed off past Ron, trying to suppress the sobs. Wait, this isn't right, Ron judged. Knowing that chasing after her would only secure an argument; he knelt down and snatched the parchment, now drenched in salty tears. He could not understand – was it really that bad? he questioned. Scanning the words once more, he noted a few possible grammar mistakes. Could this be what all that was about? Coming to the bottom, he noticed a scrawl, written in a bit of a hurry. Sulking, he read the words, still in shock from Hermione's outburst.

We've been good friends since our first year at Hogwarts, despite a few mistakes here and there. I'm sorry, but I no longer have those feelings. I hope you can move on. Can we still be friends?

He ran his free hand through his hair, deep in contemplation over what to do. No wonder she went into sobs, Ron agreed. How could he explain to her that this was not him? He wished for any solution. As he finished his last thought, he grew in fury. Who could have done this? There was no mistake: it had to be the same intruder who read it. It could not be Hermione; she had read it for the first time. Harry? No. They were best mates. Harry knew where Ron's feelings lie and vice versa. He licked his lips, aggravated at this violation. Seamus! he concluded. Seamus was in the dormitory with Harry when Ron left his parchment for sunshine. Glowing red, he dashed off toward Seamus, who was now making nervous conversation to avoid Ron's confrontation. Ron reached Seamus' spot and shoved him into the wall to retain his full attention.

"Woah, Ron-" Seamus pleaded, his hands bent in front of him in protection. "What…?"

"Why did you do this?! Do you think this is funny?!" Ron screamed in his face, a flicker of anger in his eyes.

"I'm sorry…! I just – don't…" Ron's face grew a fire red and his heightened anger caused Seamus to stumble through his sentence.

"How could you do this to me?!" Ron thundered.

"I – just don't – agree…!" Seamus choked, now emptying his lungs into the words he screamed.

"You ruined me!" He spat in Seamus' face, darting off to avoid further exchange of words.

I need to talk to her! he cried. How could I be so stupid to leave this out! Seamus! he continued screaming to himself. He rushed through the common room and, not seeing her, skidded to a stop just outside of the girl's dormitory.

"Bloody hell…" he muttered, noticing how much he looked like a wreck. Embarrassment danced on his face as he scanned the room.

"Ginny!" he yelled to the bemused redhead. He waved her over. Dropping his shriek to a low whisper, "Have you seen 'Mione?!" She gave a questioning glare to his tears but just nodded.

"She stormed into her dormitory awhile ago. I haven't seen her since."

His face fell; the stairs leading to the dormitories were charmed to prevent any rebel students of the opposite sex from entering. He had to reach her – at all costs. Wrenching the door open, he looked twice to see if anyone was watching him. Not seeing anyone, he grasped both walls with his hands, pushing hard to hold him up by the walls. His feet still touching the floor, he ran up the stairs, hearing a click and feeling the stairs fall into a slippery, steep ramp. He jumped and hoisted himself, feet hovering. Maintaining a firm grip on the walls, he slid his feet up the steep, making his hands follow. He lost his footing and tripped on the ramp. Ron flung out his arms to one wall, digging into the grooves. No, no, no! he pleaded. He slipped up the ramp, fighting to maintain the hold. He noticed a protruding pattern every so often, jutting out towards the mid-wall. Kicking up his foot, he leaned it up on the ledge and dragged his other foot onto the ledge, pulling himself off the floor. Readjusting his grip, he squeezed along the wall, jumping from one wedge to the next. Reaching the last one, he dived to the top, flat surface in front of the door and knocked courteously. Inching the door open, he heard sobbing from the right side of the room. Slipping through the doorway, he peered to take in his surroundings. Hermione was hunched over on the bed nearest to his right, facing the opposite direction. Ron strode around the other side of the bed and, crouched at her feet, touched the hand she held her head with. She sniffed in response, and peered through her parted fingers, seeing that it was Ron. She was taken aback and threw his hand away from hers.

"What are you doing here?!" she sobbed. "Just leave!"

"No!" he cried, then recollecting his calm. "'Mione," he continued, resting his hand on hers. He choked back his tears, forcing his thoughts out.

"Please…I wrote all of that rubbish – meant every bloody word. But – the scrawl at the end – that was not me. You have to believe me. It's not even my writing." He stopped, rolling his eyes to take in the rest of the dormitory, as if to find any hints to words.

"Seamus found it on my bed and must've found it funny to mess with me. 'Mione…I – I…" he trailed off, gulping. She searched his eyes for the trace of deception, but did not find a shred. She sat upright once again, tidying up her blouse and hair, trying to ignore his plea. Stopping, she met his gaze and sniffled once again.

"'Mione, you don't know how hard it was for me to give you that parchment – you know how embarrassed I get. I would not give you that parchment if the hurried scrawl was my own. Please-" he was interrupted by her shifting positions and drawing closer to him again. She swallowed her sobs and gave Ron the tiniest hint of a smile arising from her frown. Heaving a heavy breath, Hermione turned Ron's hand over and cupped it in her own. They traded only slightly concealed smiles.

"Well, 'Mione…I should probably go–" he rose to his feet, feeling weak in the knees once again. Hermione pulled herself off her bed, still gripping his hand. She released it and pulled him closer by his loosened tie, planting a kiss on his still shaking lips. He closed his eyes in contentment and only opened them once the kiss was over. Hermione gave a soft chuckle to his reddening cheeks. Still wearing the smile, though it now grew to that of extreme joy, Ron walked slowly back toward the door and disappeared past the threshold.

Dropping the parchment into his lap, Harry gave a slight giggle. Ron rolled his eyes at his mate, wishing Harry would give any comments on the content.

"Ron – reading that, even _I _want to kiss you," he gave a playful wink to his friend.

"Harry – come off it –" he blushed, moving uneasily. "Well?"

"This is brilliant, Ron. It's really sweet."

"Yeah; all except for the bottom," he stated in disgust. Curiosity filled the young Gryffindor's face, as Harry went back to reading the message he missed.

"Ron – he didn't," Harry shook his head, tossing out any doubts.

"Yeah, he did. Harry – you better talk to that git of yours. We practically had a row in the Great Hall. Hermione had read the parchment and ran off, sobbing, thanks to him!" He growled. A sly grin broke hatred on his face. "I'm going to ask her to dinner on the next Hogsmeade trip. Unless, of course, you _don't _have a date." Ron mocked, fluttering his eyelashes. Harry gave a not-so-innocent grin in return.

"I haven't asked him yet, actually. He won't even talk to me about last night. He's ruddy aggravating!" Harry shook his head in frustration. Ron gave his friend a look of worry, and added slowly, "Are you sure there isn't **anyone** else at Hogwarts?"

Harry thought for a beat, and realization spread like acne across his face. He dropped his smile and shifted his eyes nervously. "Er – no."

Ron glared at his mate – something was up. "C'mon Harry, I know you too well to accept that from you." Ron nodded to his mate knowledgably.

"Well…Seamus is not the ONLY one I have…felt things for," he stopped at that, not wanting to provoke Ron with any other information. He was way too protective sometimes, Ron was. "Harry -!" Ron coaxed, egging him on to get the information from him.

"It's nothing, Ron – believe me." Harry shoved that speculation out of his mind. Ron sighed in defeat and shrugged his shoulders.

"Whatever," Ron concluded. He stared lazily across the deserted common room to the pin board. He could not wait until the announcements about Hogsmeade were released. Right now, it was just Ron and Harry, giving them very much privacy as they needed. Hermione was in the library researching her share for their newest Potions project. Being in her group is brilliant, Ron thought gleefully.

"Heyya Harry – don't you think we should help 'Mione out? I mean, all that searching and all –" he trailed off, waiting for Harry's expected decline. Instead, Ron received a shrug and a roll of eyes. Ron took that for what it was, grabbed up his quill and still-blank parchment.

Once at the library, they trudged through all the cramming students – an unusual thing for Ron. His idea of studying was reviewing during the walk to that class. Behind a mess of books, Ron and Harry found Hermione searching and scribbling. When she noticed them, she grinned and passed both a pile of books. Ron clutched the edge of the table discreetly, regaining his balance on jello legs. Grabbing up the books she had given him, he slid them over and sat down beside her, a large grin on his face. Harry took in all the books scattered across the table, and nodding to himself, he stated, "I'll go look around for any other books we may need." He gave a coy smile at Ron; he was happy to see his friends no longer bickering every other minute. He slipped away from the two, hoping to give them any privacy they may need. Investigating the different aisles for the right subject, Harry checked the different titles on the shelves. Humming to himself, he barely made it halfway down the aisle when a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "Harry," Seamus whispered, raising his eyebrows at Harry's messy hair. Harry read the sensual look upon Seamus' face, and shook his head at him. Seamus toyed with Harry's color, their faces so close Harry could feel his craving breath on his neck. Just as Seamus touched his forehead upon his, Harry slipped out from his grip.

"I said no," Harry concluded. He was disgusted that Seamus acted this way when he could not even bring himself to speak of their first embrace.

"But, Harry – I don't understand…" he gave him a very playful look, his voice a soft plea. He unbuttoned the first two buttons on the top of his shirt, and grinned back at Harry, feeling sure his decline was part of the foreplay.

"Good, neither do I," Harry retorted in a huff, and turned to make his way back to Hermione and Ron.

"Harry, you can't play with me like this," he threw at the back of Harry's head as he strode toward his friends and away from the disgruntled Seamus.

Heading back to Gryffindor tower from the library, now exhausted and fed up with anything remotely related to potions, Harry and his friends conversed over the overall events of their first week back at Hogwarts. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a laugh, they noticed Seamus walking shortly ahead of them. His dark figure came to a halt as they all heard a drawl.

"Ready for quidditch, Finnegan?" Draco came into sight. Seamus strode up to meet the blond and clutched him by the throat. "What were you saying, Draco?!"

The three friends jogged up to meet the duelers.

"Seamus, what's wrong with you?!" Hermione inquired, gaping at the sight of the young Irish lad clutching the blond.

"Did you hear his drawl?! He's an arse, he is," Seamus informed.

"Get your hands off of me, Finnegan," Draco interjected. Seamus responded with a punch in the jaw. A trickle of blood poured from Draco's busted lip.

Ron congratulated Seamus with loud laughter. Hermione elbowed Ron hard in the ribs, and he quickly took up the hint. He cleared his throat. "Gone mental, he has." He bit his lip to avoid any small smile to shine through.

"Seamus, get off of him," Harry ordered calmly.

"No, Harry, I'm sick of the likes of him."

"Seamus!" Harry took a step forward to scare Seamus out of his stance. It did not work.

"Listen here, Harry. He needs to hold his mouth in your presence and for the benefit of us all."

Harry crossed over to where Seamus stood, clutching Draco. Placing a hand firmly on Seamus' forearm, he looked into the eyes of his fellow Gryffindor. "Seamus, I said shove off."

Seamus gave a smirk and boomed with laughter as he released the grip on Draco. "Harry, you've lost it." Seamus turned and walked into the darkness. Harry turned to face Draco, who was fixing his collar and wiping the blood from his lip onto his shirtsleeve. He gritted his teeth and looked on as Ron shrugged and accompanied Hermione to the common room.

"Have you lost your mind, Potter? A Slytherin never accepts the aid of a Gryffindor."

"Well, a true Gryffindor is always ready to help." Harry gave a slight grin at his rival, as if to tease him. Draco sneered back at him. Harry thought he could detect a slight twinkle in Draco's eyes but dismissed the observation as impossible.

"A Malfoy always has enough people scrambling to his aid."

Harry gave him an empathetic gaze. "It looks like they weren't there for you in your time of need." His emeralds gleamed in the darkness, and he watched as the blond shook his head in disbelief while making his way back toward the dungeons.

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As Draco Malfoy entered his dormitory, he slumped onto his bed in frustration, holding his hand to his lip. What was that prat Finnegan doing?

"Bloody idiot," Draco reassured himself. Peering down on his trunk, he noticed a letter resting on the top. He picked it up and reread it. It was a letter from his father, Lucius Malfoy, that he had received that very morning, only a few days into term. Amongst the drawn-out lectures regarding his grades not possibly meeting his father's expectations, and the constant nagging of becoming a household name on the quidditch field, his father also stated that he would be handling some more family business for the next few months. "Family business" was the title the Malfoys gave regarding any work for the Death Eaters or Lord Voldemort. His father made it very clear that if anything were to go wrong or not as planned, he expected his son to answer the call of the Dark Mark. Draco heaved a sigh of frustration, and shoved the letter back into his trunk. It was his father that forced him to become a Death Eater by constantly making degrading remarks about his son's choices. Lucius Malfoy could not bear to see his son as anything else; Draco would be disgracing the family name by declining his calling. I just want to carry on with my colleagues at Hogwarts, he thought. He pondered this almost every night before he drifted off to sleep. He wished that he could find some small loophole, something that could drag him out of this role. He wanted to be himself, not another Malfoy.


	6. Of the Heart

**Chapter 6 – Of the Heart**

Stirring, wrapping himself deeper in sheets, Harry peered through heavy eyelids. He took in the rays of sunshine that poured through the dormitory, and he grunted as he rolled over to face Ron's direction. The bed was left an empty mess, and Harry realized that all of his roommates had already left their dormitory. All, of course, except for Seamus. The lump under his blanket warned Harry and caused him a very uneasy feeling. He shuddered at Seamus' horrid behavior, and contemplated any plans he could carry out successfully without Seamus stirring. A confrontation of any sort with Seamus, all alone, in a dormitory, was the last thing Harry wanted. Tossing the covers aside, Harry hurriedly dressed and tiptoed out of the dormitory, making his way down to meet everyone at breakfast.

Once in the entrance hall, Harry contained any joy he had from avoiding Seamus so as not to draw attention to him. He chuckled lightly; he was glad he was intelligent enough to do so. Suddenly, though, Harry found himself, back against a wall, Seamus running his hands through Harry's messy hair. Pinning him against the wall, Seamus stole a few glances to make sure no one could see him, and made to kiss Harry. Flinging violently, Harry summoned all his strength to fight off the other boy, but Seamus was able to steal some kisses.

"Harry, there's no need to act this way. We both know what we want," Seamus whispered in his ear, an evil smirk crossing his face. Kissing his earlobe, Seamus gained some distance from Harry's face, which now showed violation.

"What's the matter, Finnegan? Is Thomas not gay- er…game?" Draco sneered from behind the embarrassed Seamus. Draco threw Seamus a disgusted look, and shifted his eyes to Harry, who was still up against the wall in helplessness. "Sorry, Potter. Even _you _deserve better." Harry blushed at Draco's remark, no matter how cruel it was. Harry even detected a hint of kindness in Draco's statement.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Seamus inquired, as if his intentions were not obvious. Harry smoothed out his shirt, and readjusted his tie. He never felt so defeated before in his life. "This is none of your worry." He turned and rested his forearm on Harry's chest, pinning him against the wall still. Just as he was inches from Harry's lips, footsteps sounded down the corridor, and Seamus tilted his head to get a better view of the intruder. Harry thrust his arm up in the air, hitting Seamus straight in the conk, and stumbled toward the Great Hall.

"He did what?!?" Ron fumed, dropping his fork as Harry finished his story.

"Shush, Ron," Harry pleaded, glancing over to where Dean and Seamus were having a hushed conversation at the opposite end of the table.

"Don't _shush_ me!" Ron hissed in Harry's direction. "It's not right. He needs to know it!" Rising with a jolt, Ron felt tempted to finish his row with Seamus.

Sliding her hand in his, Hermione tugged him back into his seat. Ron settled for a glare at Seamus, shaking his head in disgust.

"Ron, please," Hermione insisted, and he dropped his death glare.

Harry scanned the rest of the tables, still embarrassed at how vulnerable he was. A pit of fear rose in his stomach. This won't be the last, Harry admitted. He knew that Seamus was not going to be that easy to allude. Malfoy would not always be there for –

"Hang on," Harry uttered, blinking in shock when he noticed he had just uttered aloud.

Ron raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Harry?" Hermione's voice sounded next to him.

Why would Malfoy choose to help him? It didn't add up at all.

"Never mind," Harry added, wishing his friends would just drop it. He looked up to see them still intent on hearing his thoughts.

"It's just – why would _he_…why help me?" Harry stared off in the distance, as if searching for the answer.

"Harry – he didn't bloody help you! Whatever he tells you, it's all rubbish." Ron dropped his voice at the end, realizing all the stares thrown in his direction.

"Ron," Hermione squeezed his hand as a sign to stop. "_Malfoy_ does not have any clear reasoning behind that, does he?"

"Oh. Right. _Malfoy_," Ron huffed, still aggravated at the whole situation. He nodded to himself to look as though he knew what he was talking about.

Harry chuckled to himself, then stopped. This was not the situation he ever could have imagined himself in. "Dunno. Do you suppose the Death Eaters had a change in heart?"

Harry spat, attempting to give the conversation a light-hearted quality, but it did not work.

"Look, until we figure all this out, maybe it would be best if Harry was always in our company."

Harry looked on to his redheaded friend for some kind of backup. Surely he would not agree with that.

"'Mione's right. Seamus won't back off so eagerly, would he?"

Harry shrugged, deep in thought. Malfoy is not going to come back if I'm always with you two, he thought. I need to know what he is up to.

As the three shuffled off from the table, Ron felt Seamus gawking at them. Ron waited for Seamus' eyes to fall on him, and flashed him a nasty sneer as he trailed Hermione out the door.

No longer hearing movement, Harry stared, fixated on Ron's bed. His friend was motionless, deep in dreams, and Harry held his breath as he slipped on his tennis shoes. Ron gave a faint murmur, and shot up in his bed, glaring around. Harry dove to the floor, his eyes still raised to watch Ron's every move. Harry did not rise until Ron fell back onto his pillow and continued snoring. Padding over to his trunk, Harry snatched up his Marauders Map and wand.

"Lumos," he whispered to his wand, tiptoeing out of the dormitory. Once in the common room, he tapped the map with his wand and muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

He watched as ink formed on the parchment and scanned the names of the pacers. His sight rested on two simple words: Draco Malfoy. The words floated across the parchment in the area marked as the library. Harry gaped in fascination as it slowly slid into the entrance hall. Holding his breath, Harry rushed through the common room and down the moving stairs. The letters skidded to a stop, and the owner spun around in his spot to face the stairs. Seeing this, Harry just barely caught himself as he tripped down the stairs. "Bugger," he mouthed, and he paused at the foot of the stairs. He peered around, looking for his destination. Finally seeing the slouching figure in front of him, Harry took a few hurried steps.

"Malfoy," he beckoned, placing the map into his pants pocket.

Creeping into the common room, Ron clutched his head with one hand, as though to soothe it from the pounding headache he suffered from.

"Ugh," he sighed, sitting down in one of the comfy chairs. He rubbed his eyes drearily, and stared through heavy slits, only to find that he was the only occupant of the room, besides the three chuckling fourth years at the bulletin board. Sudden realization hit Ron hard in the face as he noticed a new slip of paper that was not there before. His heart skipped a beat; he could finally ask Hermione out to Hogsmeade. He strode confidently over toward the girls and glanced over them at the note. His smile disintegrated as he realized it was not the Hogsmeade announcement, but a scrawled note addressed to him:

Ron,

Can't you take a hint? I thought I told you I'm not interested. I'd gladly have your friend any day, though.

-Seamus

The girls' snickering grew into cackling, as they observed Ron's face go through at least seven shades of red. Ron clinched his hands into fists at his side. He felt a soft, pity tap on his arm from one of the girls as they walked off. Ron ripped the note off the board, still glaring at it menacingly. The first thought he had was now most of his housemates would find out Harry's homosexuality. Second, he realized many of his mates would probably think him gay. Thirdly, he thought how good it would feel to wring Seamus' neck.

"You're up early," Hermione approached him from behind, grinning approvingly. Seething, Ron crushed the paper in his balled fist. "Ron?"

Embarrassed, he took a few steps away from her; he did not want Hermione reading that. He'd much rather have her mad at him and oblivious to that note.

"C'mon," she placed a hand on his shoulder in confidence. He shrugged it off regrettably, and headed back toward the dormitory to smother Seamus, but Hermione just jogged and stopped in his path. She sent him a very worried look, and it was unlikely that she would move out of his way without his compliance. Continuing his stride, he tore past her up to where Seamus emerged from the dormitory.

"Seamus!" Ron exploded. "What the bloody hell is your problem?!"

"I'm sorry, Ron," Seamus slipped on the most obnoxious grin he could muster. "How about your friend?" He raised his brow suggestively.

"Don't you dare come near my friends. Understand?" Ron seethed, attempting to withdraw his desire to beat him into a pulp.

"You can't choose their desires," he continued, now resting both of his hands lazily in his pockets.

"Ron, no!" Hermione tried to convince him, but it was too late. Throwing the note in disgust, he thundered toward a grinning Seamus.

Ginny slid in front of Seamus protectively. "Ron, please stop." Seamus continued smirking over Ginny's shoulder at Ron.

Ron nearly collided with Ginny, but managed to stop himself just in time. "Ginny, don't protect that prat!"

Just at that moment, Harry clambered down the stairs and gaped in shock at the scene.

"Ron, what's going on?"

Seamus licked his lips and rounded Ginny. "Ron's a bit jealous."

Hermione clung to Ron's arm to prevent any physical contact between the two boys.

Harry drooped down to pick up the note, reading it. Ron shook his head furiously, and Harry respected Ron's decision in keeping it from Hermione.

"Ron, don't let him bother you like that."

After the third crowd of girls filed past Ron, and the first boy winked at him, Ron decided that Seamus needed a good punishment. He was not quite sure what it would be, but Ron knew that Seamus would pay. He was sick of the prat's idea of sick jokes and he was only happy that Hermione escaped the second one unaffected. In what Ron could only consider attempts to drive him mad, Seamus continued sneaking glances at Hermione. Calm down, Ron told himself. He's into Harry; that is who you need to protect. If Seamus so much as lays one finger on him, I'll throttle him.

Trying to break the awkward silence, Hermione cleared her throat, "So how do you think we'll do on the potions project?"

"Rubbish," Ron mumbled, still analyzing every one of Seamus' gestures. Harry continued sitting in silence, biting his lip in thought. Feeling bogged down by the current problems, Harry stood and made his way out of the Great Hall.

"I'm going for a walk. I'll see ya."

"Right, see ya Harry," Ron looked over to Hermione. "So…"

She giggled at his attempt at conversation. "I cannot wait for our first Hogsmeade trip."

"Yeah," Ron's eyes twinkled at the thought. "Er…yeah." You sound brilliant, he mocked himself. Just as he made to ask her, she interrupted his thoughts.

"It'll be good for Harry. We can cheer him up."

"Oh, right," Ron tried his best not to sound disappointed. He made a mental note to ensure Harry a date.

Draco sat at the Slytherin table, watching cautiously as Seamus trailed Harry out the door. Weasley, mind your mate, Draco thought. Instead, Draco witnessed Ron continue his conversation with Hermione, completely unaware of Seamus pursuing Harry once again. Throwing his napkin down in his plate, Draco hurried out after the two.

Once outside, Draco crouched behind a bush, watching. He could barely hear the utterances from his standpoint, and surveyed his surroundings, not seeing but a few handfuls of students dispersed out in the distance.

"Stop pretending, Harry," Seamus' eyes grew animated with lust. He knocked Harry onto the ground, and pinned him down. "Don't fight it. We don't need to pretend anymore." Seamus stroked Harry's rebellious strands out of his face and joined lips with his. He felt Harry's sweat roll off onto his upper lip as he penetrated his mouth. With Seamus kissing him sensually, Harry let out a few muffled screams. He choked on Seamus' tongue and closed his eyes in pain. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he withdrew from Harry's mouth, now dispersing pecks throughout his face. Harry parted his lips, sucking in oxygen. He choked on his words, unable to scream for help. "Don't make a sound," Seamus hissed, trying to regain his breath. Concealing a lewd smirk, Seamus threw Harry a sensuous look. "If you really love me, you will keep this our own secret." Seamus buried his hand in the sod and attempted to raise himself from Harry's trembling body. Draco found this the perfect opportunity, and kicked Seamus straight in the bum. Seamus crashed to the ground and Draco pointed his wand at Seamus.

"Get off, you ass," Draco demanded, still intent on Seamus. Spitting out dirt, Seamus rose and turned to face Draco.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Seamus spat.

"No, thank you Finnegan." Draco sneered, lurching forward. He dug into the side of Seamus' neck with his wand, "Shove off."

"You leave Harry alone. He's mine," Seamus raised his chin, trying to stay tough.

"I've got no problem using cruciatus your ass!" Draco drawled, condensing his rage.

Seamus stifled nervous laughter, and tripped as Draco released his grip. Checking all around to avoid any other glances, Draco grasped Harry's hand and helped him to his feet. Seamus, now on his back, choked out, "Don't you touch him. He knows what he wants."

"Oh, does he?" Draco grinned, bringing his face inches from Harry's. Grabbing a tuft of dark hair, he dragged Harry into a long, sweet kiss. When Draco finally pulled away, Harry's face revealed a very satisfied look. The fire that loomed in his chest was not of any he had felt before; this was of the heart.


	7. Of Nutters and Bolts

**Chapter 7 – Of Nutters and Bolts**

Gasping for breath, he returned Draco's star in admiration. He heard shuffling as Seamus tried to raise himself from the ground in vain.

"You're right; he does know what he wants." Draco teased. Replacing his wand back inside his robes, Draco swiveled on his heel and made back toward the castle. He did this so nonchalantly, and left Harry craving more. His heartbeat quickened in desire as he watched the blond head toward the castle. Rushing past Harry, Seamus paused just long enough to slowly stroke Harry's lower back and whisper slyly in his ear, "Don't forget who can really give you what you want." And, with a sensual lick on his lower ear, Seamus was off.

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Maybe you are being foolish, Harry persuaded himself. Seamus has always been there for you; Draco has always been quick to torture my friends and me, he continued. Seamus just expresses his love differently, right? Harry gritted his teeth, goggling at Malfoy from the back of his Potions class. How could he do this to himself? Harry wasn't sure if he should curse himself or Draco. He felt his heart skip a few beats as Malfoy slanted his head to sneak a glance at Harry. Rising a hand to his head, Harry felt the portion of his head where Draco had so forcibly yet lovingly tugged at his hair to pull him in for the kiss-

"Ms. Granger! Do you think you can explain the importance of your experiment to the whole class?!" Snape loomed in front of Harry, directly in between him and Draco. Harry could not help but suspect Snape of purposefully breaking the two's communication. Hermione started rattling off statistics and key parts of their research. Harry stared down at his parchment, at a loss for what to do. Seamus was the better pick – he was more reliable; he would not completely ruin Harry's reputation. People started shuffling around Harry, leaping out of their chairs to form small groups. Draco glanced over at Harry, a playful glint in his eyes, hoping Harry would join his group.

"Mr. Potter, are you too inept to join us? Or are you just too special for such trivial classes?" Snape boomed, glaring at Harry in his usual manner. "Unfortunately, you'll have to join Finnegan's group, since they're lacking in incompetence," Snape thundered sarcastically.

Harry shot out of his chair and headed over to Seamus' group, locking eyes on Ron's face. Ron stood behind Hermione, rolling his eyes in disgust. Seamus took up the knife and started chopping the ingredients that Ron had gathered and Hermione measured. Seamus deliberately knocked the solution over onto the floor. Hermione and Ron took to cleaning up the mess, with Ron mumbling curses. While they were occupied, Seamus stole over to Harry.

"We're meeting in the library late tonight. Say…midnight?" Seamus teased, stroking the blade of the knife with his forefinger. He gave a half-smile and Harry's heart felt a chill as fierce that made him shiver. Pricking his finger on the tip, Seamus giggled coyly at the look of dread encompassing Harry's face.

"Don't worry," Seamus whispered, running his finger down Harry's neck. "I will take care of you." Seamus sucked his blood back off of Harry, leaving no trace. See, Harry gulped. He loves you – in his own way. Seeing that Ron and Hermione were almost finished with the cleanup, Harry slapped Seamus away so as not to be caught.

Midnight it is, Harry concluded.

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Darkness haunted Harry as he padded into the library. His lips felt vacant; he was not used to this. With every step he took, his lust grew tenfold and took over. He not only wanted it, but needed it. He tried drawing in a relieving breath, but he was only seduced as he rounded the corner of an aisle in the library. A caress on his backside announced Seamus's presence; Seamus creeped up from behind to rise up beside him. He rested a hand on the top of Harry's pants, teasing him as he turned Harry around so that they were face to face.

"I knew you'd come," he grinned happily. To Harry's surprise, Seamus wrapped his arms around Harry and drew him into a big hug. They both kept silent, surrendering to each other's embrace. Harry inhaled Seamus' cologne; nothing had ever smelled sweeter. Harry felt the burning in his chest once again, and he drew Seamus in much closer. Seamus gripped the bottom of Harry's shirt, and slowly lifted it as their lips met. Harry's whole body shook in passion and he tore at Seamus' shoulders; he could not get close enough to him. Finally freeing Harry from his sweat-drenched shirt, Seamus threw it to the ground in animalistic yearning. Seamus cupped Harry's head in his hands and showered his face with appreciative kisses. Dropping his arms around Seamus' waist, Harry thrust Seamus against him. He groaned in satisfaction and Seamus raised his face to the ceiling, biting his lip to stifle the moans that crept up his throat. Harry felt as though his chest may burst. He panted, taking in any breaths he had time for. Seamus planted smaller kisses up and down Harry's neck, sending tremors down Harry's spine.

"S-s…" Harry stuttered, become aroused. "S-seamus…" Harry fought out. Trembling, he broke free of Seamus' hold and bent down to pick up his shirt. Toweling himself off, he redressed and glanced up at Seamus. Seamus responded to Harry's animated smile, "O-okay. Right. See you later, then." Seamus shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning against the bookshelf. Stumbling up the stairs, Harry made for the prefect bathroom. The advantages of being best mates with a prefect. He prayed he would get a quick bath in before Moaning Myrtle spotted him.

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Harry bolted out of bed and made down to the Gryffindor common room with a spring in his step. Ron twisted his mouth in confusion, and rose up from his seat next to Hermione.

"Harry?" he questioned the ecstatic look on Harry's face.

"Hi, Ron. I should say I've got Seamus sorted out," Harry grinned, bouncing down onto the vacant seat by his friends. Harry gestured to Ron, bringing his attention to the new notes posted on the board. Crossing over to read them, Ron found two that drew his attention. The first one was the parchment that listed the Hogsmeade date: 17 September. Brilliant, Ron cheered in his mind. Dropping his eyes to the hand-written comment directly below the Hogsmeade announcement:

_Fellow Gryffindors:_

_I felt this was due. I apologize for the last note I posted to Ron. It was a sore joke. Please forgive my insolence and don't punish me with harder workouts at quidditch practice. I've found my own source of exercise._

_-Seamus_

Ron beamed at the bulletin board. He found it very big of Seamus to come clean, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the last line. Harry's date is secured, he declared silently. Yes! He strutted back to his friends; Seamus now rested on the armrest of Harry's chair, his arm draped around Harry's shoulders.

"Thanks, Seamus," Ron stated, shaking hands with Seamus. "I'm sorry, too, mate." Then crossing back to his chair, he flopped down. Harry must have read Ron's mind because he rose out of his seat and led Seamus off, "Right, I'm hungry. We'll see ya."

After a few beats, Ron gathered his courage and turned to Hermione.

"'Mione," he started, swallowing hard. "I was wondering if you would…like-" Ron was cut off by an anxious Hermione, "–to go with you to Hogsmeade?!" she exclaimed, waiting for Ron's confirmation. After he nodded, her face lit up, "I'd love to."

"Brilliant," Ron shouted, clapping his hands childishly. Grasping up Hermione's hand, they walked to breakfast together. Him. Her. Hand in hand.

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Sitting in a big group, the four friends collaborated on how interestingly the term had started. Seamus stirred and nudged Hermione, who had her attention placed fully in Ron's hands. She turned her head and read Seamus' expression. The pair left the table, now engrossed in quiet conversation. Ron leaned over the table and patted Harry's arm.

"I'm so happy for you, Harry. I misjudged him," Ron admitted, nodding knowingly. After a pause, Ron could no longer hold in his excitement. Noting that Hermione and Seamus were well out of earshot, he exploded, "Harry, I finally asked her!" he exclaimed. "You'll never guess what she said…" He stopped, waiting for Harry's curiosity to kick in.

"Oh yeah?! What…?"

"'I'd love to,'" Ron shook with giddy laughter. "Can you believe that?" Then, looking after her lovingly, "She's brilliant, Harry." He lulled at the sight of her.

"Ron, you two are so cute together."

Blushing, Ron questioned Harry, not taking his sight off of Hermione, "Will you be okay going with Seamus?"

"Haha. I'd gladly go with him. Ron, I think I've finally figured him out." Harry gave a half-smirk to his friend.

"Harry – the most qualified wizard could not even do _that_."

Sharing a laugh, the two mates were glad that they both had discovered love – or rather, finally expressed it. Comfortable silence diffused between them; Seamus and Hermione returned shortly after. Filling her spot next to Ron, she gave him a soft kiss on his cheek. Ron shot her a curious look, to which she answered with a smooth stroking of his arm.

"So what do you two have planned for this gorgeous Saturday?" Seamus inquired.

"I better get started on some of my essays," Hermione heaved a sigh.

Harry rolled his eyes. As if anyone had to ask, he chuckled to himself.

"Well," Ron started, after thinking. "I've got some parchments that should at least be thought of."

"Oh. We were thinking of maybe going out to the quidditch pitch – it's open for practice to anyone today," Harry concluded.

"I'll meet up with you later, Harry," Ron reassured.

"Ron?" Hermione gave a doubtful smirk.

"No, really. I'm actually going to think about these parchments for a moment or two." He retorted with a sly grin.

"Right, well. Have fun," Seamus stated, his tone drenched in sarcasm.

After they had exited, Ron and Hermione gathered their assignments from their dormitories and finally settled out on the forest green grass. Books were besieged them, and Hermione was still in shock of Ron's choice.

"Are you sure?" Hermione continued to add doubt to the situation.

"Yes, 'Mione. Who knows, maybe you can teach me a thing or two."

They drew closer and started discussing their Potions analysis paper. After what seemed a few moments, Ron checked his watch. It read half past noon – nearly four hours since breakfast.

"Break time?" Ron hinted, hoping Hermione would accept his statement disguised as offer.

"Yeah," They both shoved their parchments back into book bags. After books were stacked neatly on top of one another, and their space was tidied, they started in small talk.

"So, eh, can you believe Harry and Seamus?" Ron admired.

"I think it's sweet. They actually look very happy together."

"Yeah, minus the few problems, eh?" Ron sought for agreement.

"Right."

"Shall we go for a stroll?" Ron offered.

After a nod, they both stood up and Ron motioned to grab Hermione's extra books after settling his own book bag on his shoulder.

"Let me," he picked up the books and cradled them in one arm.

"Thanks," she returned lightly. They started toward the lake to take in the sweet smell of summer. Hermione gazed over the course of the lake while Ron dug one shoe deep into the earth, shuffling about. Scratching his neck to remain occupied, Ron crouched and sat down at the edge of the lake. Hermione followed his movements and plopped down right next to him. Rustling the leaves, she moved closer to Ron, leaning her head so delicately on his shoulder. Looking out of his peripheral vision, Ron stiffened under her weight.

"Ron, do you ever wonder what it would be like if I wasn't threatened by a troll in first year?"

He chuckled at the bluntness of her statement. "What? Besides the fact that I would be unskilled at yet another charm?"

"No, I mean…how much would that change our lives?"

"Well, let's see here," Ron ordered the changes in his mind. "Harry and I would have failed Potions. Harry would probably have gone mental on Umbridge one too many times. I would still be a pathetic git, not having the opportunity to sit here with you right now." Ron stopped here, unsure of what to say next. No doubt that would be the worst part of my life, he thought.

"So you're saying that you and Harry would be working for Filch, Harry would have been sent to Azkaban for thinking too loudly, and you would be left all alone?" She chuckled to show her light-heartedness.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Poor Harry…" she gave a sympathetic plea for him.

"Hey!" Ron shook her off his shoulder, and gave a false glare of annoyance.

They laughed at their discussion, reminiscing of different memories they shared. Ron was so grateful that he had unmasked his true feelings; he felt much more relaxed around Hermione.

"I would have gone nutters," he spoke to himself.

"Ron, you _are _nutters," she gave him a playful push and he chuckled her comment off, though agreeing with her. Then it happened; he rose his arm and casually laid it on her shoulders. Drawing closer to him, she gazed deep into his eyes, all laughter subsiding. Bringing her face inches away from his, she made to give him another kiss that would blow his mind.

"Ron! Harry seems to believe that I could outdo you on the pitch." Seamus ducked to Ron's left, taking in the two.

Rolling his eyes, Ron raised his voice just loud enough to cause a bit of a scene, "Right, Seamus! Thanks for pointing that out!" he shouted, still admiring Hermione's expressions. His eyes dropped, and he lifted himself off the grass, reaching down to pull Hermione up after him.

"You under this belief, too?" Ron challenged Seamus, dusting off his pants.

"Maybe," Seamus smirked at Ron. Hermione bobbed her head to Ron, and he gathered up their books. Trekking off toward the Gryffindor tower to get his broom, he could not help but feel extremely lucky. Hermione was right – Ron was nutters. Nutters for her.


	8. Escapades in Abandoned Lavatories

Before the chapter, I just wanted to thank everyone for continuing to read my fanfic. I also have a few words to share:

**Ezza: **I'm glad you enjoy the pairings and the interactions between characters. Since I'm an obvious Ron/Hermione shipper, that seems to be the main pairing, but Harry's interactions are also vital to the story. I have a portion that I wrote that will take place within the next couple of chapters, and I had to construct this chapter before updating with the other. It'll be interesting.

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Escapades in Abandoned Lavatories**

After enjoying a refreshing bath, Ron dressed in his favorite pair of faded jeans and forest green sweater. He heaved a sigh, gathering his discarded clothes, and headed back up to his dormitory. Ron rummaged through his trunk, collecting any money he found in his pocket. The day had come – it would not be long before they set out to Hogsmeade. He peered over his shoulder to see Harry at a loss for what to wear. As nervous as Ron was, nothing could compare to Harry's dilemma. Ever since they had decided to take their separate dates, Harry felt obligated to display his affection for Seamus in front of all his classmates. He was weary of coming out, unsure of how everyone would respond to it, but also did not want to disappoint Seamus.

"Harry, you'll be fine," Ron reassured, his fingers still trembling as he closed his trunk. "Don't worry about the rest."

"Dunno. Maybe I should stay behind," he frowned into the mirror as he readjusted his collar. Ron placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, appearing beside his reflection.

"If it feels right for you two, then go with it," Harry felt Ron's shivering.

"Are you okay, Ron?" Harry questioned, worried his friend's fingers would fall off.

"Yeah. I've just never done this before," Ron stammered, dropping his hold on Harry and shoving his hands in his pockets.

Harry tried to concern himself with his friend's nerves, but could not forget about his own situation. "What will everyone think?" He inquired, half to himself.

"Well, depends on who you're talking about. The girls will probably think of the fastest way to get rid of Seamus, while the guys will be reevaluating their sexuality." He chuckled to himself, crossing his arms to ease the tremors.

After an exchange of a few more insecurities, the pair trudged out of their dormitory and down to the common room. Ron checked his watch repeatedly, counting down to the trip. 15, 13, 10 minutes. He warded off any nausea as they met Seamus and Hermione outside. Professor McGonagall stood some feet away, calling for all signed permission forms. Ron gathered the groups' and dashed over, giving them to her. This was it. Any last minute cancellations were behind. We can do it, Ron declared for Harry and himself. I think.

Ron and Harry gazed at each other, both at a loss. It was going to be an interesting day. Seamus glanced over at Harry, a longing look in his eyes. Harry strode over to his side, and gave a warm smile for security. Ron took a deep breath and followed his friend up to Hermione's side. What do I do, he questioned, but nothing came. Hermione took charge by brushing his hand with hers. Thus, the four set off, Ron and Hermione hand in hand while Seamus and Harry kept awkward distance.

Gently rattling the money in his pocket, Ron reminded himself that Hermione's birthday was only in two days. The only limiting factor would be the amount he held in his pockets: it consisted of some spending money from his parents but also some from his brothers, Fred and George. Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes was going very well and managed to score regular consumers; since Ron helped them beta test new products over the summer, the twins decided to reward him. Unfortunately, most of Ron's accumulation of money was already spent on Hermione; the rest would likely be spent on their trip today. That did not bother Ron; though he rarely had money for himself, he would rather spend it on their day. He was used to being broke. The four split upon reaching Hogsmeade, agreeing to meet later at the Three Broomsticks.

After Seamus trailed off with Harry, Ron noticed Hermione's shivers and decided that Madam Puddifoot's teashop would be their first destination. They entered the teashop, which was just filling up with students, and found a cozy table in the corner.

"Brilliant," Hermione nodded approvingly as Ron slumped down into his seat. He flashed her a friendly smile, pleased with his success. So far, so good, he celebrated silently.

"Right," he glanced adoringly back at her, and picked up the menu. After ordering, Ron shifted in his seat nervously. He still could not believe that he was sitting here with her; Madam Puddifoot's of all places. He pinched himself under the table to secure his sanity, and winced in realization.

"Ron?" Hermione chuckled across from him.

"Yeah? Oh! Right. Sorry," he was quick to pick up her confusion. He struggled against the reddening of his ears, concentrating as if to flush them.

After a brief silence, Ron cleared his throat and pursued conversation.

"I can't wait for quidditch to start up," he started. Quidditch. Very charming. At least it's something, Ron argued with himself. "It will be a great season." After no response, he continued again, switching topics.

"So, some start of term, eh? Heh. I cannot believe we're almost done with schooling at Hogwarts," he stopped again, avoiding any stuttering. What do I do?! He swallowed hard, thinking of anything that would draw attention away from his horrible conversational skills. He reached over and grasped her hand, falling silent.

"I'm happy I'm here with you." It was the first time she had spoken since they sat down. Unable to restrain himself, he released an outpour on her.

"'Mione, there's something I have to tell you," he looked around to see that a few tables around him had grown a bit silent. Gulping, he leaned in closer. "I- uh. I think I like you. I know that probably sounds some sort of rubbish but, this day cannot get much better for me and I, just thought I should…"

Just then, she raised a finger to his lips, causing Ron to stop rambling. "I know what you mean, Ron. I feel the same way."

A blow to his stomach could not have left him more winded; he felt the urge to rub his eyes to see if he was still talking to the same Hermione.

"I've felt this for quite some time, actually. You drive me mad-"

"Oh," Ron's face fell.

"No, Ron, it's a good thing. A _very _good thing."

He furrowed his brow in thought and she took the opportunity to clutch his arm and pull him farther across the table. Their lips met and locked, just as Ron knocked over the steaming tea that had just arrived. With his soaked hand he held her chin, desperate to continue their long awaited kiss. It was cut short by a menacing chuckle that sounded just off to his side. Ron opened his eyes and turned his head in detest to the blond that gaped at the scene.

"How romantic, Weasley," Draco sniggered, motioning to the spilled tea on the floor.

"Oh shove off, Malfoy. You're just jealous," Ron started, jerking up to his feet.

"Jealous? Of what?" Ron spotted a hint of mock sadness in Malfoy's demeanor.

"That I'm sharing tea with the most brilliant girl!" Ugh, he silently scolded himself. Ron could not choke back the words, and he stepped up to meet Draco.

Raising his eyebrows, Malfoy said, "Looks like there isn't any tea left to share." He curled his lip in pleasure and turned to walk out. Still fuming, Ron crouched down with napkin in hand, trying to soak up the mess.

"Ugh, I'm sorry about this. What is his deal? Doesn't he have a rock he needs to crawl back under?" He gathered the pieces of the fallen teacup and tapped them with his wand, whispering _Reparo_.

After Ron paid for them, they both exited the teashop with Hermione in the lead. Once outside, Hermione concealed her laughter as Ron peered down both sides of Hogsmeade.

"Whereto now?" Ron paused, running a hand through his hair. He tried to hold his voice steady, still giddy about the whole trip.

Unsure of where they should go next, they strolled throughout Hogsmeade, finally resting on a bench outside of the Three Broomsticks. Ron checked his watch once more; it was too soon to meet Seamus and Harry. He raised his sight, gazing off toward the Shrieking Shack. Hermione must have followed his gaze.

"I wonder how Moony's doing." It was not much of a topic around Harry. Ever since Sirius fell, Harry had avoided the subject of his godfather or anyone associated. Ron overheard his parents discussing the situation over summer, and apparently, Moony was now boarding in Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Now that Sirius was gone, the house would be left vacant, except for the Order meetings. Ron nodded solemnly, and met gaze with the ground. Their conversation died as they saw Seamus and Harry making their way hurriedly toward them.

"Oi! Sorry," Seamus started.

"Nah, it's okay. You're not late," Ron reassured, and he rose from the bench.

"Shall we get some butterbeer, then?" Harry questioned, looking longingly into the windows.

They found a booth secluded in one of the corners, not wanting to run into anyone else. After the butterbeers were placed on their table, Seamus snatched his up and raised it high.

"Cheers, to another year at Hogwarts, and to Harry and me. I love you Harry!" Seamus squeezed Harry close to him, his arm pulling him from behind his neck. The last remark was a bit too loud, and Harry shrugged Seamus off. He crossed his arms in aggravation. Ron shifted his glare between the two, and kept silent. Hermione questioned Harry with her sight, and he shook his head violently, slouching down in his seat.

"Er, right," Ron racked his brain to find a diversion. He turned to his side, drawing Hermione's attention. "You alright?"

"Yeah," she mouthed, not wanting to disturb the bickering between Seamus and Harry.

"What is your problem, Harry? Bloody hell, I take it back then," Seamus spat at Harry, aggravated at his embarrassment.

"Hey, hey!" Ron retorted. "Knock it off, you two."

"Shove off, Ron. Harry's embarrassed of me. I'll yell if I want."

"Harry?" Ron gestured to his friend, trying to get him alone for a moment. His friend ignored, and Ron jolted up from his spot, grabbing his butterbeer.

"C'mon, 'Mione," Ron padded over to an empty table some feet away from the fuming couple. Hermione followed, shaking her head disapprovingly at the two.

"Seamus is a git," Ron concluded, "Harry is uncomfortable about them in public. He feels he has something to hide."

"Well, the Boy-Who-Loved! Seamus, eh?" Pansy barked, standing at the head of their table and cackling like mad. Ron and Hermione both caught Harry's expression; his features were now completely red.

Seamus sat staring straightforward while Harry now raised his hands to shield his face.

"So what if it was?" Hermione growled; Ron gaped openmouthed at her sudden assault.

Pansy spun around to meet the opposition. She made to slur a comment about Ron, her eyes filled with hatred, but Hermione beat her to it.

"Don't even _try_ with me – I don't care who knows it," Ron's heart sped up in his chest as Hermione hunted Parkinson, "Skew that pug face of yours up any more and you might actually have a date." Ouch, Ron thought. His hands slipped off the armrests of his chair, perspiration growing in his palms. Hermione had never been hotter.

Pansy had swallowed any underdeveloped words that hung in her mouth, and blinked in amazement. She did not even manage a stutter in response to Hermione's death stare. She stood in front of Parkinson, her hands balled up in fists at her side. Now everyone in the Three Broomsticks was intent on the fight that had erupted.

Ron sat, stupefied, as Harry raised a hand to cause a halt. "It's okay, Hermione."

Harry now straightened his back in pride, placing a hand gently on Seamus' crossed arms. "You're right, I do…like Seamus." Harry stumbled through his statement, feeling obligated to confess love. But it did not feel right; he suppressed the word and finished off his declaration. Seamus features softened, and a grin spread across his face. Pansy, who had turned head to watch Harry, now chuckled. She killed off her laughter as she faced Hermione once again, and gulped. She inched farther away from Hermione, and darted off to join her Slytherin comrades. Ron finally clamped his mouth shut once again, and rose from the table in admiration.

"'Mione?" he goggled, holding a hand up to his temple in astonishment. Scattered applause came from all directions as fellow Gryffindors celebrated Pansy's loss. Hermione loosened her demeanor and beamed up in his face, flattered.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized, patting Seamus' arm adoringly. "I'm not – I don't know if I'm-"

Seamus wrapped Harry in a casual hug, whispering in his ear, "It's fine."

Amidst all this disruption, Draco glowered from across the room.

* * *

Back at Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione parted with their friends, having to attend to their prefect duties. Changed into their uniforms, they were to patrol the corridors in the evening for a few hours, as many curious first years were exploring parts of the Hogwarts castle past curfew. Wandering down from Gryffindor tower, Hermione was assigned the corridors leading to and around the library while Ron was designated to watch the first floor. Trudging down the steps together, Ron and Hermione postponed their jobs for as long as possible. They split reluctantly only when they reached the first floor. Once parted, Ron paced down the abandoned corridor for what seemed like an eternity. With every fall of his foot, he grew increasingly anxious for their patrolling to end. Rubbish, Ron thought. No one was _that _bored to wander down this corridor. Heaving a sigh, he heard fast clicking of shoes hard on the floor and spun around to see the intruder. Realizing it was Hermione, his heart sang; she tugged on his arm, remaining silent, and pulled him into the abandoned girls' lavatory haunted only by Moaning Myrtle. Ron mouthed a curious, "What?" Hermione answered by stroking his face playfully. Ron lurched down to encompass her lips with his own, inviting her into a lengthy kiss. They pulled away just long enough to get lost in each other's eyes; she loosened his tie and dropped it on the floor. Their lips met once more, this time in an explosion of rapture. Hermione started unbuttoning his shirt; Ron uttered, "'Mione, what if someone-" but could not finish his thoughts as she lip-locked with him once again. His heart fluttered once again, and he stretched his arms to lean on the wall, maintaining his composure. She finally fully unbuttoned his shirt, and covered his chin with kisses. His eyes rolled back and he breathed heavily; he would kill anyone who would interrupt them. 

"Oh, Herm-" he gasped, but that was all. He nibbled at her lip and dropped to his knees simultaneously as she slid down against the wall. Crouching, he seized her with his arms, and she placed her head on his shoulder as they embraced. Tears clouded his vision and he breathed in her ear, "I was wrong. This day is now the greatest of my life."

Their eyes met, still wrapped in embrace, and he had just finished swatting hair out of her face when they heard it. Ron leaned back and looked to the door, but the padding had stopped. Falling to the floor, Ron moved right next to Hermione, leaning against the wall. He draped an arm around her and they relaxed in each other's presence.

_Click_. _Click_. _Splash_! Ron shook awake, taking the darkness in around him. He felt warm breathing soothe his neck and looked down. Hermione was dozing in his arms, and he realization strangled him.

"'Mione," he whispered, shaking her from sleep.

"Huh..?" She uttered, still in a daze.

"'Mione, someone is coming," he let go of her and scrambled to his feet, gathering his tie and shoving his shirt into his pants. Swallowing hard, he lifted her up from the ground, and stroked her hair to get it back in place. He licked his lips in concentration, and worry overcame his features. She made to button the lower buttons of his shirt as he buttoned the top and slung the tie around his neck. The clicking grew louder, and Hermione was taken aback in shock. Ron slowly turned to meet Moaning Myrtle, giggling at the sight of them.

"Did I interrupt?" she squeaked, and Ron shook his arms furiously to silence her. "Shush!"

He gave a look of desperation and edged over to the door, listening for any noises. The clicking was now diminishing as it continued down to the other end of the corridor. He held out a hand behind him, motioning Hermione to stay still, and he gripped the door handle. Easing it open, he peered out cautiously. The clicks were coming from the left side of the corridor, and he waved Hermione over. Slipping out of the door, Hermione followed him.

"Did you hear that?" he said, a bit loudly so as to show they had nothing to hide. He took off down the corridor after the steps and swung around the corner, just barely avoiding a collision with Professor McGonagall.

"Professor," he breathed, his chest heaving as he regained his breath. She raised an interrogative brow, and replied, "Mr. Weasley, your patrol has long been over. I've been trying to find you; Hermione has left her corridor for some time now."

"Sorry, Professor, I heard something and went to investigate."

"Where?" she jested, "In the abandoned girls' lavatory?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders, finding no reason to argue. Professor McGonagall shook her head at him, and turned to make her way back to Gryffindor tower. Ron sighed and made the turn back to Hermione, meeting her halfway between the corner and the lavatory. "C'mon, 'Mione. McGonagall has dismissed us – awhile ago," he offered her his arm and they made their way back, both yearning for sleep.


	9. Hide the Krums

**Chapter 9 – Hide the Krums**

Waking with a start, Ron opened his eyes, squinting through the curtains of his four-poster that he had drawn. He did not detect any movement, and sighed as he wiped his brow. His dreams had been vivid and sweet, causing him to reflect on his late night rendezvous with Hermione. He tried easing himself up but stopped dead; his dreams last night were _too_ pleasant. Resting his head back on his pillow, he amused himself by staring off lazily out the window of his dormitory. He heard some shuffling from beyond the curtains, and two figures darted out of the room, as rashly as possible. Groaning, Ron rolled his eyes in disgust. Ever since yesterday's incident at the Three Broomsticks, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom had avoided any moments with Harry or Seamus. They were very insecure and thought that Seamus and Harry were wrong in their pairing. Ron did not doubt for one second that they were homophobic, and probably would have chased them downstairs but for his inability to. Dropping the sheet over his eyes, he tried to picture last night once again; barely escaping from a daze, Harry woke Ron up by a loud giggling. Tossing off the blankets just enough to cause them to fall at his waist, Ron gazed over in Harry's direction.

"Ron? Hey, Ron!" Harry gripped the curtains of Ron's bed loosely and made to open it up.

"Er, Harry, I'm gonna meet you downstairs."

Taking the hint, Harry let the curtains close once again and made for the exit of the dormitory.

* * *

After sometime, Ron finally managed to make it out of bed and down to the common room. His eyes scanned the room eagerly, picking out every detail, anything that could point him in Hermione's direction. He spotted Dean and Neville mumbling in the corner; following their scowl, Ron found Harry and Seamus, who were both settling on one of the comfy sofas. Striding over to them, he looked for Hermione in vain.

"Morning," he stated, standing over the two behind the sofa. He grinned down at them, but realized they kept small distance between each other on the sofa. Very odd, Ron decided. He was still too intent on finding her to think anything of it. "Have either of you seen-"

Harry beat Seamus in response, "No, not yet. Late night?" Harry chuckled at the glint in Ron's livened blue orbs.

"Right, well, I'll go grab some parchment from the dormitory for study," Seamus rose from his position next to Harry, walking drearily.

"So, eh, what's going on?" Ron plopped down in the vacant spot next to Harry.

"I don't quite know, actually," Harry murmured; he showed no sign of joy or contempt. "And with you?"

Ron unleashed a sly grin in Harry's direction, biting his lip to control his thoughts. Hermione was now exiting her dormitory and making her way casually across the common room. Adjusting his posture, Ron now looked a bit more alert and awake. Harry recognized a harsh change in Ron's behavior; he always glowed when in Hermione's presence. This, in turn, made Harry question why he did not feel any happier in Seamus' protective grasp. He actually felt relieved that Seamus excused himself for a moment up to his dormitory; the fact that he did not need to fulfill any sort of role calmed Harry. This feels more like a job then love; Harry frowned in thought. Settling down beside Ron, Hermione allowed him to droop his arm over her shoulders. They look so happy, Harry realized.

"Morning Harry," she said, fighting off a yawn. "Where's Seamus?"

"Dormitory," Harry muttered, diverting his eyes from them. He did not want to talk about Seamus at all. Just forget it, he thought.

"Is everything okay?" Hermione questioned. Ron heaved a sigh; this would be an interesting day. He could not comprehend why Harry was so indecisive about Seamus. For him, it did not seem that hard of a choice. He bit his lip in contemplation; he was the one who gave Harry any doubt about his feelings. How could he be so stupid?

"Let's get some food," Ron hinted, trying to avoid the subject. He did not want to see his mate get annoyed; they would have to talk later. If I was the git that disrupted it, I may as well be the one to mend it. His mind was set; he could hear Harry's silent pleas for help.

Ron and Hermione rose, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts as they made for the Great Hall. Once they began adorning their plates with eggs, biscuits, and fruit, Ron heard fluttering overhead. He found that strange; could it be an owl? They normally did not receive post on Sundays; not because the owls did not travel for weekends, but most students never got any mail on Sundays. Too hungry to care, he piled food in his mouth, as if this was the last meal he would have for the next year. Downing another glass of pumpkin juice, he stopped only to lick his lips and observe as a letter was dropped into Hermione's lap. He leaned close beside her and stared at the letter in attempts to see the sender.

"Who's it from, 'Mione?" He scanned her face for any answer as she lifted and carefully opened it. With a soft gasp, she quickly closed it and eyed her food as a distraction.

"'Mione?" He gave her a worried look. "What'd you get?" His tone changed from concern to curiosity.

"Oh, just a stupid letter," she stated quietly, trying to get it out of his sight. He lowered his arm from its resting spot on her shoulder and held her hand that clutched the parchment.

"Are you okay?" He inquired. She looked extremely nervous and her hand trembled in fear.

"It's nothing, Ron," she continued as he released a chuckle.

"C'mon, it can't be that bad. It isn't a Howler, after all."

"Ronald," she sighed in exasperation. He knew something was wrong; why was she acting so strange? The parchment fluttered to the ground, her grip finally failing. He stooped to grab it, beating her to it.

_How much?_

The words flooded back to her and she grimaced in regret.

_How much do you love him?_

The note was clear enough, but Hermione was still unsure as to who penned it and for what purpose. She hoped that Ron would be able to understand her emotions and thoughts, though she knew how oblivious he was. She wished for the benefit of the doubt, but many times, he was too hotheaded to comprehend.

_How much?_

She wanted nothing more than to prise the parchment from his clutch but knew it was useless and would result in much more harm.

_You know he will not understand._

The scrawl that occupied the mysterious note now pieced together her thoughts; she looked deep into his eyes as he scanned the letter. Deep blue pools now becoming ocean like as sparkle tears formed.

"Ron, stop. It's foolish, rea-" she was interrupted by his darting orbs. Ron continued to read, seemingly growing with rage every word, every letter.

"What the-" his cheeks grew a fierce red as he sought out words he could not find. "Nothing, eh?" His voice cracked and he slammed the parchment down on the table, aggravated. Bolting out of his seat, Hermione saw his tear-drenched facial expressions.

_He never understands._

He tore across the Great Hall with Hermione close on his tail.

"Ron, stop overreacting." As soon as the words issued from her lips, she knew it was a bad idea.

"Overreacting?! What's Krummy got to say to you? Asking you over for another summer?" He exploded into the entrance hall when Hermione finally caught up with him. She clasped his arm and wheeled him around. "I suppose he just decided to send you a letter."

"Yes. Ron, I haven't sent him an owl in a long time."

"Look, if you weren't serious about us, then why didn't you tell me?"

He stormed off, scaling the stairs toward the common room and sniffling.

Hermione remained at the foot of the stairs, on ground floor. Chasing him would only provoke him to rash actions. She seethed, cursing the note as if it instigated all of this. Whatever was going on, she knew that she had to take matters into her own hands. Hermione recollected the content of the scrawl while leaning on the railing. She gritted her teeth and spun around at the sound of a slow, malicious drawl.

"How much do you love him?" Draco quoted the note.

"What?!" She barked back, unaware of why she was even communicating with him.

"How much do you love Weasley?" He sneered.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, are you willing to lose him? Krum has just been _itching _to send you another love letter by owl."

"You…!" Her eyes grew wide with hatred as she refrained from strangling him.

"We both know what we want. If you help me get rid of Finnigan," he spat in extreme disdain, "If you take him out of the picture, 'Krum' stops sending letters. Understood?"

She glowered at him, her brow furrowed in disgust. So many emotions coursed through her veins, she was torn between screaming, setting him on fire, or remaining calm. She chose to remain calm in his presence.

"Look, I want to show Potter that we need each other. In order to convince him, Finnigan needs to stop pursuing him. His constant harassment, his lashing hormones…the bloody prat has to leave him alone. No Seamus, No Krum," his face revealed masked sincerity, and thus was the only reason Hermione continued to bear him.

"How do I know you'll keep to your word?" She attempted to fight back her curiosity, but she knew Draco would find some way to get between her and Ron. It had taken the redhead a long time to react to her subtle hints; now was not the time for any Slytherin to interrupt.

"Is that a risk you'll willingly take?" Draco held a faint plea in his eyes, though he still let out the brutish façade he had maintained for so long. "What you don't seem to get is that, no matter how much you deny 'Krum', Weasley is hotheaded. He won't see past the notes."

Hermione turned and started back hastily, trying to avoid Draco's torments.

"I'm sure he'll appreciate the first kiss, no, Hermy-own?" He mimicked Krum's accent and mispronunciation. "Fourth year, wasn't it?"

"What?!" She was now near tears as she halted, peering over her shoulder at the blond. "You didn't-"

"Yeah, I did. After the Yule Ball. Honestly, I'm not stupid."

"It meant nothing! It just-" she rose her voice in a shrill fury. She should not have to explain anything to _him_.

"Nothing to you, maybe. Weasley will think a bit differently, I should think," he paused, feeling assured Hermione would comply.

"Arg. Fine," she wiped away the tears that dried on her skin.

"No Seamus, then?" Draco grinned; he knew he could get to her.

* * *

Harry climbed the steps up to his dormitory and, sliding through the door, met eyes with Seamus. The playful browns danced with youthful joy at the sight of Harry, and all Seamus received in response was a shy grin.

"Harry?" Seamus whispered, "What's wrong?" He sensed that his mate was not the same, and he longed to be the shoulder Harry would lean on.

Harry shook his head slightly, thinking Seamus deserved more of him. He paused; maybe they did need to have a chat.

Seamus stalked over to Harry, placing two very protective hands on his shoulders.

"Tell me what's wrong. I want to help you, sexy," Seamus lowered his chin, peering into Harry's face once again. Harry shrugged, wishing he could drop the burden he felt.

"Seamus, I don't know what's wrong with me." This made Seamus frown; he reviewed the words Harry spilled, and evaluated them.

"Do you want to talk? There's nothing to be afraid of," Seamus reassured, easing Harry back on his bed. He rested on his knees in front of Harry, still awaiting any response. He did not want to see him feel this way.

"You're so good to me, Seam," Harry stated matter-of-factly. Why was he so lucky to have Seamus? And why didn't he want to spend every moment with him? Clearly there is something wrong with me, Harry declared. I'm not going to find anyone half as good as him. Harry twisted his mouth in confusion; he doubted he'd find _any_one who loved or even liked him. His dating history was not full of success, and it hardily even existed.

"Harry," Seamus started, touching Harry's chin sweetly, "You know I'm always here for you."

Harry prayed that Seamus would stop talking, though he knew that silence would just be more painful. He dreaded what would be said next.

"I like you, Harry. Very much…I-I _love_ you."

Harry gasped, and realized his thoughts were true. No one would ever care for him a quarter as much as Seamus displayed. That was not counting what his mate thought.

Seamus placed his hands down on the bed on either side of Harry, and started to stand, when Harry flung his arms around Seamus and pulled him in. They kissed; Seamus was wide-eyed. His speech muffled by Harry's tongue, he broke free of Harry to utter, "Are you sure?"

Harry gave a gentle nod and sat on the bed, waiting for Seamus. He was too shy to instigate anything, and hoped that his friend would leap at the opportunity. He did. Pouncing on the bed, he climbed on top of Harry, running his hands through his jet-black hair. Seamus let out an excited giggle, and renewed Harry's kiss. This time, much more passionately. Harry felt Seamus grope around him, his hands sliding down Harry's chest in search. Finding his target, Seamus fingered the button of Harry's jeans. When Harry did not protest, he unbuttoned them. Harry ripped at Seamus' shirt, too nervous to be successful, and surrendered to massaging his back. Sighing, Seamus eased Harry's pants off, revealing deep green boxers that complimented his emerald eyes. Harry's nerves conquered him, and he fumbled as he tugged at Seamus' collar. Lifting himself off of Harry, he hovered over him and made his way down Harry's chest. Harry felt warm lips drop kisses here and there, and Seamus finally reached his lower stomach. Realizing how scared Harry was, Seamus attempted to comfort him by easing up. This only caused Harry more problems; Seamus could see he was clearly enjoying it, and so he continued. Seamus lowered himself casually back on Harry, feeling his arousal as he rested his chin on his stomach. He bore deep into Harry's eyes, wishing he knew every inch of his mind and body. Harry was now his favorite sport. Just as Seamus renewed Harry's lust with more kisses along his stomach, they both heard the door to the dormitory slam shut.

"Harry? Oh shit-" Ron's face twisted in a mixture of embarrassment and horror. Seamus met glances with him, quickly falling off Harry and regaining his balance on his feet. Ron raised his hand to his forehead in frustration, shielding his eyes. He could not believe what he just saw. "Er, um…" he stuttered, staggering back toward the door. Harry, to Seamus' surprise, leaped out of the bed and dashed over to Ron. He tapped his friend on the shoulder, hoping to salvage everyone from the horrid awkwardness they all experienced. Harry looked back at Seamus and, leading Ron back down to the common room, prayed his friend was not going to freak out on him.

"Ron?" Harry started, as he stumbled into the common room.

"Harry, I'm sorry about that. Ugh. I didn't know…" Ron slapped his forehead hard, as if in repentance for his stupidity.

"No, Ron," Harry continued, stopping his friend, "I think it was good you came when you did."

Ron raised a brow, even though he thought he knew what his mate was saying. Harry was trembling, not violently, but enough for Ron to tell something was wrong.

"Did he hurt-" Ron spoke through gritted teeth.

"No, er…I was just saying that…look. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lead it that far…"

Ron grimaced, not wanting to here about Harry's experiences with Seamus.

"Look, mate, can we just drop it? Next time I'll just remember to knock," he said the last in half jest, easing the mood. Harry added nervous laughter at the end of his statement, but choked on his own façade.

"Well, I'm not staying locked away in here on such a beautiful day. I'm gonna go for a walk." Ron paused, reviewing his thoughts before he spoke. "Do you want to come?"

Harry shook his head, declaring that he'd be right down in a moment; Ron left him alone with his own worst enemy: himself. He contemplated what had just happened, wondering if he should go back up to Seamus or join Ron outside. Frowning, he trudged down the staircases, and burst out of the castle, scanning the grassy outside for his friends.

* * *

Ron sped across the grassy fields, feeling extreme violent impulses; he strained to fight back his tears. His mind was at war with his heart; as much as he wanted to be sensible, he could not ward off his rage. Maybe she's telling the truth; she's not one to lie. Ron wished he could sincerely believe it, but his heart was bleeding in his chest. He never felt so rejected before in his life; he probably screwed up by storming off during breakfast, but he was used to his incompetence. I always fuck up, he yelled in his thoughts. He loathed himself, rivaling the hatred he felt toward Krum. Spotting Hermione off in the distance, he swiveled on his feet and hurried off in a different direction, praying she would not confront him. He was not afraid of what she had to say, but what he would do; he lacked control of his actions and temper. Ron approached the closest tree and shifted his weight, leaning up against the tree. He shoved off all thoughts of Hermione and directed all his efforts on calming himself. What will I do with Harry? He shook his head, trying to dismiss the image plastered between his eyes of Seamus and Harry. Sometimes he did not understand him at all; one second, Harry was madly in love and the next, he was thanking his friend for walking in on him with his lover.

"Ron," a soft whisper lingered in his ear, and he closed his eyes in serenity. He sighed, and opened his eyes once more, seeing Hermione's face hovering right in front of him. Her voice shook, and she seemed very cautious, rethinking every word she would give him. "Please."

He watched her lips move, unable to leave, and avoided any attempts at eye contact that she made. Crossing his arms in front of him, he allowed Hermione to continue.

"Krum means nothing to me. I thought you knew that," she pursued his conscious, "There's only one person I want to be with."

Ron breathed deeply, raising his gaze into her brown pools; he looked straight into her soul, detecting sincerity and honesty. She really means it, you ruddy fool, Ron cursed silently. He shrugged, still questioning the origins of that letter she received. Ron leaned forward, replacing the burden on his feet. He cast away any ill thoughts, devoting his full attention to her. Stringing together words, he cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry," he stepped forward and grabbed the hand that hung at her side in confidence. After a moment, he changed the subject, "So, it seems Harry and Seamus have…er…made up." To his surprise, Hermione did not smile or change in appearance; instead, she remained indifferent, as though his words never registered.

"'Mione?" he called to her, coaxing her to question his knowledge.

"Oh, really?" she inflicted a minute amount of emotion into her response, keeping a nonchalant air.

"Yeah. Needless to say I'll be weary next time I go up to the dormitory," his eyes lit up playfully, and he glanced at her. He could sense in her a bit of aggravation at his statement. Her brown eyes reflected an inner struggle, as if she was debating what feeling she would adopt next.

"And Harry is okay with that?" Hermione sounded doubtful, though she picked up on Ron's embarrassment.

"Well, I should think so," Ron discarded the comments Harry had said about how he was thankful Ron had found him. His sarcasm seemed to discomfort her and he longed to decode her thought process. "What's wrong? You should be excited for your friend." Ron was disgruntled; how could she not show any compassion for her mate?

"I dunno. I guess I just think he deserves better," she fought out, still unsure of what to do. Hermione did in fact want the best for Harry, which made her display of feelings that much harder. She herself did not know what to think.

Ron glared at her as if she was completely mental. "What? You stood up for Seamus just yesterday! Honestly, I really don't understand you." Ron let off a bit snippy, and Hermione punished him with a frown.

"Excuse me for looking out for him," she growled. Ron rolled his eyes in frustration; he should've known it wouldn't be long until they were back to squabbling.

"Right. So now I'm a bad mate, eh? Fine then," Ron renewed all doubts he had as he stormed off back toward the castle, leaving her still fuming.


	10. Souls on Fire

**Chapter 10- Souls on Fire**

Inching closer, Ron rounded the sofa and plopped down next to a very uptight Hermione.

"Am I interrupting?" Ron's eye gleamed in almost cruel happiness as he settled next to her. She shot him a hurt look; it was obvious he was not no one else was in the common room.

"Sorry," he shrugged casually. "I wasn't sure if Krum was hiding under there." He gestured to the couch, but Hermione had caught his true meaning.

"Ronald!" She growled, throwing her arms up in defeat. Shaking her head in disbelief, she succumbed to calmness and continued.

"How did we get like this?" Ron dropped majority of his rage as he addressed her.

She looked up at him.

"I got a letter and you're just, well….you."

"Bloody hell, 'Mione. You don't know how _hard _it is to date you. I know one little mistake or another and you'll have no problem replacing me. You know – like Krum," he frowned, as if agitated by his own temper.

"Ron, that's rubbish. I wish I could explain to you," Hermione muttered, scanning the carpet and memorizing the stains.

"And why can't you?" Ron inquired, raising a suspecting brow. "Because there's no answer." Ron replied for her.

"No, you don't understand," Hermione pursued. "Please, Ron. You have to trust me." He chuckled as if to prove that was impossible for him.

"'Mione," Ron started, but silenced himself. He did not want to bring any more distance between them. He yearned to drop all his doubts of her more than anything else, but jealousy was fused too deep in his heart. Swallowing his pride, he drained his tone of any anger that was existent in it before. "Look, you don't owe me anything. Don't explain your problems to me, since obviously they're too personal to share and I'm a misunderstanding git." Slowly raising himself from the couch, he fell back with a tug on his sleeve.

"That's not why I'm not telling you. Believe me, I want you to know."

Ron's face flushed with sympathy and he placed a concerned hand on her shoulder.

"Did he threaten you?" Ron's anger busted back out, and Hermione quivered in response. "Tell me, 'Mione. Did he hurt you?"

Hermione fought back the screams that built up in her throat. She wanted to shake sense into him; she needed his help more than ever. But that was why she withdrew from him – their relationship was much too fragile and she could not bear fracturing it. She sat, silently pleading with Ron to figure out the secret. I should not cave into Malfoy like this, she scolded. What would Ron think of me? But this thought disintegrated at the recollection of _Krum's _letter. Ron furrowed his brow in contemplation; he restrained himself from yelling right then and there. He had to retain control if Hermione was to take him seriously.

"I can't protect you if you don't let me in," Ron's eyes displayed a look of deep sincerity, and Hermione shuddered in realization of the truth in his words. How was he supposed to help, to understand if she didn't tell him? At the same time, though, she was overwhelmed by fear of telling him.

"Ron, I'm sorry," Hermione concluded, sensing Ron's moody vibes. Please don't hate me, she prayed silently.

Ron delved into her orbs, his face white in disbelief. He knew she was hiding something big. Hermione squeezed his hand in apology, and rose up from the couch, unable to find words of speech. Ron sat in the same spot, not moving; he hoped that she would come back and confess. But she did not; instead, she exited the common room, going downstairs.

* * *

Draco slumped down in his seat, still locked away in his dormitory. Tears formed in remorseful pools in his eyes. How could he let this happen? He hated himself for his lack of restraint, and for the feelings he could not bury. He knew he had to keep quiet – if his father found out Draco would be dead. Lucius Malfoy was intent on Draco's continuing the family line; besides, the Death Eaters were not very tolerant of anything. He would be isolated from his family and Voldemort would keep an extra harmful eye on him. No big deal. Malfoy spent many nights wondering if that was the catalyst of these feelings – maybe this was just to punish his father for his cruelty. But then the blond grinned in stupor; he could not resist. His fear toward Voldemort, though, did not rival his fear of love. I'm already acting like an ass; I don't even know if he likes me or not, yet I'm chasing him. He trusted things would fall into place – Hermione loved Ron too much not to comply. This was so obvious to him, he shook his head in frustration. They could hold each other all day and night; Draco had to kill off his feelings every time he shared a room with Harry. Draco could sense some tension in Harry's relationship with Seamus; he had, after all, cowered when Seamus declared his love for the boy. Though Draco could identify with Harry regarding his reluctance to display his affection in public, Draco also knew if it was true love, there would be no hesitation. Draco knew Seamus was a bit too lecherous for Harry's standards; there was no real potential for a relationship between the two. Draco giggled evilly at this thought; Hermione would definitely climb up Draco's tolerance list.

"He will be mine!" Draco shouted, almost too loud. No one was in his presence and Draco enjoyed this greatly; his whole like was encased in his prat façade. He was in no rush to come out to anyone; the truth was Crabbe and Goyle were not to be trusted with the secret. Draco had no one to collaborate with. His loneliness contributed to most of his anger; he wanted intimacy more than air. His forbidden lover seduced him as he drew each breath, and Draco woke up, drenched in sweat, various times from dreams of late night meetings. Only in his dreams could he embrace him, kiss him, love him. All of those that he knew, he doubted his knowledge of them. In truth, he had confessed to himself the real cause of his hatred – he longed to be wanted. None of his comrades truly cared or needed him, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione had. He balled his hands into tough fists and gritted his teeth. He was ridden with jealousy towards Hermione; she had a boyfriend who openly loved her and Harry was her best friend. He could never be so close to Harry; he could not hug or comfort him. He could not even cheer for him at Quidditch matches.

Why was the world so cruel? Draco could not help being a hopeless romantic. He spent nights up in his dormitory in isolation, thinking of Harry. His mind wandered, exploring the outskirts of reason in deep contemplation; he mapped out his confrontation with Harry. Every night, though, his plans were erased and he refined them. He would come out to Harry; his mind reeled at what the boy's reaction may be. They did have some potential – Ron and Hermione frequently argue and squabble yet they held a strong relationship nonetheless. What made his Harry situation any different? Everyone at Hogwarts loathes me, his friends would abandon him, and Potter cannot handle so much embarrassment. Draco breathed in heavily, and prayed Harry could conquer Voldemort right at this moment, so that their love could be shared. Draco seethed; he knew his father would not approve. But there was no valid fear in his rejection; Draco endured enough alienation at home. This would not effect his father's disappointment too drastically. He entertained the idea of Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters rejecting him, leaving Draco free to join forces with his Boy-Who-Was-Loved. Raising from his bed, the Slytherin stalked up the stairs to the Entrance Hall. Breaking through the door, he glared across the room, donning his disdainful demeanor. His heart exploded with compassion and he quickly wiped away the tears at the sight of Harry. He searched the room, compelled to greet the Gryffindor with a sweet embrace. However, he restrained himself and turned swiftly to avoid Harry's sight.

"Malfoy," Harry mumbled softly. His sweet voice penetrated Draco's self-inflicted naivety. "Malfoy."

He raised his face to swoon over Harry's. Draco swallowed hard, flushing all ecstasy from his tone. "Potter." It felt so good to hear his name in a normal tone, so different from the usual forced drawl. The two took in each other's appearance, from opposite ends of the room.

A flash of harsh green filled the hall and Malfoy shrieked at the scene: Harry was now on his knees, clutching his chest in pain. He fell down to the floor, twitching in extreme shock. His eyes were wide, and Draco pointed out the agony in Harry's soul. Draco's stomach spun around inside as he saw the trickles of blood form on Harry's lips and flowing down his front. Then the darkness came, and Draco surrendered himself into the mass confusion. He felt as though the ground split between his feet and his knees locked, sending himself headfirst into the floor.

Tremors shot through Draco's body as he gaped at Harry.

"Are you okay?" Harry tried to conceal his truthful concern in vain.

Draco blinked, taking in Harry's unharmed body; no blood-stained shirt, split lip, no clutching of chest. Shaking away the horrid picture, Draco regained his stature. His shocked expression transformed into extreme hostility as he spotted Seamus entering and reaching Harry, stroking his lover's back. Planting a quick kiss on Harry's temple, Seamus smirked at Draco's intensified presence.

"Hey, baby." Seamus threw in, seeing Draco's reaction. Seamus could feel the violence brewing in Malfoy's veins, and loved every minute of it. Storming off, the blond was too choked to shout any understated profanities at Finnigan. He fantasized about stabbing Seamus, slashing into his stomach. More ideas filled his thoughts; all of which, however, were too vulgar for Draco to maintain them and his calm simultaneously.

He thundered out into the open air outside of the castle, inhaling oxygen and reason. Draco could hardily stand his feelings toward Harry – they overtook him too often. Grasping his churning stomach, he collapsed on the grass face down. He rolled in agony and his head pounded as though ten thousand trolls were beating him shamelessly with clubs. He threw up violently onto the ground, and raised his head wearily to the sky. Dizziness consumed him, as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He never felt good after one of those. He crawled over to the nearest tree and plopped up against it, his hands twitching violently. His throat grew exceedingly dry and his body went numb; he hoped one of his cronies would go out for a walk and find him. He sniggered weakly at that; he knew Crabbe and Goyle busied themselves with food, studying it nonstop throughout the weekend. They'd be much too occupied shoving their faces with meals. Draco was finally motivated by the sour taste in his mouth and he rose gently to his feet. He trudged over toward the castle once again, keeping his thoughts in line.

"Draco," Hermione called, meeting him halfway to the castle. He groaned in frustration; he just wanted to lay his head down.

"What the fuck do you want?!" He roared, holding out his hands to balance his weight.

Hermione looked at him menacingly and he discarded his cover. He needed her, and thus had no place to agitate her. "I'm sorry."

Hermione gasped; she had never heard him utter anything toward her without reluctance. "Are you…alright?" She clutched him by the shoulder, leaning a bit into him to keep him from falling over. She looked into his orbs and noticed his pain.

"No, not particularly," his tone seeped with sarcasm, "What did you want?"

"Well, I just needed to talk with you," Hermione faked, but restructured her statement. "Oh bugger. Alright…I _wanted_ to talk to you." She rolled her eyes as his face brightened.

"Oi, what about?" he gagged at his own breath, covering his mouth with an unsteady hand.

"Right. Ron has totally lost it." She slowly spat out, reluctant to display too many human characteristics with him.

"Yeah. What had you expected?"

"Ugh. Damn you! You many have forgotten – it's all _your _fault!" She dropped her grip on him. Stepping forward, he grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, forcefully.

"Listen. We both agreed – no Seamus, no Krum," Draco recited this line through his teeth.

"I won't lose him over your **lust**," she now grimaced, disgusted with him. Draco no longer dwelled on what had just happened; he felt his strength gather.

"You may not understand this new concept – it's called love. You are obviously lacking, judging by your current relationship with Weasley." She threw his hand off her and confronted him, inches away from his face.

"How dare you…you…UGH! Listen, you stay away from my friends…!" She struggled through her screaming, too disgruntled over the whole situation.

"Alright the, Krummy won't," he grinned devilishly.

"Fine. I'll just report you," she threatened him. Draco recognized it as an empty threat, but he wanted her to know his true intentions.

"No! Wait," he yelled, and Hermione's death glare fell. "Look, you don't understand. There's so many things I want him to know – things that would jeopardize my own existence."

"-or reputation," Hermione finished his sentence inaccurately.

"No, this is not about _that_- I'm not like Harry. I can declare my love as soon as I declare my sexuality. But I would be sought out if the wrong people found out." He swallowed his own spit, trying to clear the burning in his throat. Hermione now showed pity toward him; understanding replaced aggravation.

"I'm just protective of him – perhaps too much," she shrugged, anger subsiding.

"I cannot imagine how hard it must be."

"You and me, we're very similar; more than you would even consider. Why do you think I constantly harass Harry?!" Draco questioned, soaking in her newly acquired sympathy. "The same reason you and Weasley go at it."

"Alright. But for me to really help you, I need more from you. Ron won't even talk to me."

"What am I supposed to do?! Bloody hell! 'Hey Weasley, these letters from _Krum _are my own'. Then he'd think _me_ in love with you." He shuddered in disgust – he could never see him with anyone but Harry. He never gave it a thought before Harry.

"Okay. You're right," Hermione heaved a hard sigh, sensing that her relationship with Ron would diminish drastically. "What should I do?" She questioned herself.

"Dunno. Have you talked to Harry about it? Maybe he can sort it out," Draco paused in thought, "Ugh. I'm sorry." The two stood, both confused at their own change of heart. It was surreal to think they were helping the other, and actually shared worries. Hermione recognized a drastic change in Malfoy's appearance towards her, and she was a skilled judge of character. No matter how horrible he treated them before, she could not help but deny the hostility. She realized they both could help each other and benefit from a mutual friendship.

She waited a few beats after Malfoy left, searching her mind for any reasonable solution. Hearing padding from behind, Hermione turned keenly around, only to be welcomed by a carrying note.

Call me foolish 

_Call me naïve_

_For wearing my heart_

_Upon my sleeve_

She blinked once, twice, ten times; the voice carried out of Ron was amazing; she stood in a trance, barely aware of the sniggering around her as the scene drew much attention.

Call me stupid 

_Call me ignorant_

_Just please call to me_

Ron approached her, striding rhythmically and clutching a crumbled parchment in his hand. He looked desperate; his hair messed up from many scratches of the head that he carried on during contemplation. Ron was never this forward, and Hermione felt butterflies in her stomach as he continued to serenade her.

Whatever he has 

_Whatever he offers_

_I'll love you more_

_I can double _

He reached out to her, clasping her chin in genuine compassion. He licked his lips and shut out all of the cat calls that besieged them. Ron trudged into her eyes, capturing her attention as well as her love.

Whatever he's been saying 

_Fill your mind with lies_

_If you could bear my fears_

_Your love for him would disappear_

Ron dropped his grip on her, and started encircling her, not talking his eyes off her. He knew if he were to look around, he would lose all nerve. Echoes from behind found Ron hearing coos from the Patil twins. He wiped his brow to seek his courage once again, and sang in all foolishness in front of all of his peers.

Call me stupid 

_Call me dumb_

_I will not rip this heart _

_Here from my sleeve_

He gently tugged at her sleeve, mimicking his song and grinning at her. She drove him to make a complete idiot out of himself and he didn't even care. All he was concerned with was winning her over once again.

Whatever he's been telling you 

_I ask you to ignore_

_My beautiful girl, this heart is true_

_Do you see in me what I see in you?_

The laughter roared all around him, and he grew dizzy while encircling her further. He worried that his voice would crack in agony but finished his penned thoughts with clouded sight. Salty tears danced in his sight, causing him to be disoriented; it added to his tolerance of the calls thrown at him.

I never felt this way before 

_Never wanted something more_

_All the obstacles I'd endure_

_Only to return to you_

He beamed at her, his whole body enduring an earthquake; Ron could not stand the stupidity he donned so well. He would much rather accept rejection and remain friends, then spend their days apart in useless disdain.

* * *

_Only your touch awakens my body_

They drew closer, lecherous lips steaming in wild frenzy. A full embrace. Then- the kiss started. Sweat formed on the back, soaking up into the shirt, and they both smiled sinfully at one another. It tasted _so_ good. Clothes were ripped at from either side, and satisfaction could not be achieved with the fabrics that clung them to isolation.

_Only your kiss widens my eyes_

This was what he desired. He thoroughly thought about this fantasy, willing it into reality. It was true; this was what he really wanted. Nothing was more erotic than a forbidden love masked in darkness, the only light consisting of the moon and the flames in hearts.

_You can change me like nobody else_

Licking lips, he continued thinking about his love, about the one that drove him insane. There was not enough physical contact between the two; not to match his tastes. The only problem was, did his desire share his fantasy? He wore a tired frown; he was so sick of the restraint they had. What made them so formal? They knew what was between them. The sexual tension sparking between the two was apparent to anyone he could ask. When would they take action and appease their lusts?

_Just promise to change with me_


	11. Fallen

**Disclaimer: The exerpts in bold and italics are from the song "Sing for Absolution" by Muse. Those in plain italics are of my own, as are the ones at the end of Chapter 10. I know I won't sue me, so please don't sue me either. :) Also, I wanted to take on a slightly new style of writing, so I hope you all enjoy. **

* * *

**Chapter 11- Fallen**

_**Lips are turning blue  
A kiss that can't renew  
I only dream of you  
My beautiful**_

Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he yearned for freedom. He wanted nothing more than to reveal the truth, but could his friends bear it? And what would everyone else think of him. Being hailed as the Wizarding World savior, Harry's life was directed by those around him; his destiny was not within his grasp. Raising himself from his bed, his hair messy from tossing and turning, Harry chucked a book hard against the dormitory wall. Luckily, he was isolated in his own world, and no one was there to question his mood.

_**Tiptoe to your room  
A starlight in the gloom  
I only dream of you  
And you never knew**_

He quickly dashed to the door, feeling the cold handle under his heated fingers. Harry could not help his desires; Seamus would never be able to fulfill him. Satisfaction started with a D in his vocabulary. Slipping through the door, he made his way through the common room and out the portrait. His mind was set; he pursued the only person who could ever fill his heart. Reaching the dungeons, he padded down, clasping the Marauders Map in his hands. No one was patrolling the halls that concerned him, and he inched closer to the Slytherin common room.

_**Sing for absolution  
I will be singing  
And falling from your grace**_

His heart was beating haphazardly in his chest, and he cowered in a darkened corner; he feared the growing thuds he felt would give him away. Wiping his brow, Harry fought back any weaknesses, and tried to maintain his posture. However, he slouched against the wall deep in thought. If he was caught wandering around the Slytherin common room, everyone would suspect him of something. He never loathed attention before; when growing up in the Dursleys' household, this was something you did not miss. But at the same time, he wanted to profess his love to the walls and the portraits. Harry was sick of pretending, and he was never one to be so ambitious. He had to know, though, if the feelings he mourned were unrequited or not.

_**There's nowhere left to hide  
In no one to confide  
The truth runs deep inside  
And will never die**_

Meanwhile, plopped on his bed, Draco Malfoy was ripping out pages of his journal. The only way he had maintained his sanity was by scribbling down all he felt. He had no one to talk to about it, except for Granger. Scowling, he knew that though a friendship had initiated between them, he could never confess to her all the love he felt. He sat, swooning over his unfortunate Gryffindor; he licked his lips, groaning as he recalled the taste of Harry. Their kiss defined that day the greatest of his life.

_**Lips are turning blue  
A kiss that can't renew  
I only dream of you  
My beautiful**_

Tossing the covers over him, he rested his head longingly on his pillow. Casting them aside, he wiped his eyes in aggravation. He never thought of it, but his bed was so deserted. Loneliness draped in fear of losing Harry assaulted Draco's conscious.

"Harry should keep me warm at night, not these blasted sheets," he muttered to himself. Not only his body, but his entire soul shivered at the cold Draco felt. Whimpering, he lowered himself back down on the mattress, and shook in protest. How can I just take this, he delved in his own pity. I have to do something; Granger is very helpful, but is it enough?

_**Sing for absolution  
I will be singing  
And falling from grace**_

Stirring in the abandoned room, Harry heaved a sigh. He could not believe how easily it had been; he knew the password for the common room by hearing from a Slytherin first year. Creeping over to Draco's door, his soul filled with ecstasy and he put his fingers gently on it. Draco would just be on the other side of the door, and Harry wanted to keep him company overnight.

_**Sing for absolution  
I will be singing  
And falling from grace**_

Rethinking his plan, Harry realized how horrible it would be if anyone found out. Love was overwhelming him and he continued to stare at the door, taking in every single crack of it. He could not bring himself to knock and thus, shunned himself. Turning his back on every subject of his fantasies, he trudged back toward the portrait. His soul was defeated, and his mind was heavy. He would be going back to his own dormitory, back to Seamus. Ron would probably be supportive of his Seamus situation, though Hermione constantly nagged Harry about all of Seamus' flaws. His friends, as helpful as they were, could drive him mad. He could not reach out to the one he longed to hold, not with them present. Even without them, Harry felt as though he would betray them by becoming Draco's suitor. His whole life suddenly became troubling, and Harry fought against depression. How could he be happy like this?

* * *

Thunder cracked harshly behind the clouds, exemplified by the constant bolts of lightening. Ron reminisced about yesterday; Hermione embraced him with sincere tears in her eyes. He could not believe he actually gathered up the courage to sing to her; obviously, it was not in vain. He grinned to himself. They were back to normal once again; that is, if normal was what you called it. Normal meant he adored Hermione and they did not leave each other's side for very long. Appreciating the landscape, Ron raised his eyes to the fierce clouds that hung overhead. Rain patted his face and he felt a new gratitude for life; he playfully stuck out his tongue to catch some droplets. Glancing around, he decided to make his way back up for breakfast; Ron spent a long time roaming the fields of Hogwarts, up before all the other Gryffindors. Now his stomach yearned for breakfast, and he was not one to be reluctant to eat. Running through the grass, into the castle and bursting into the Great Hall, Ron situated himself right next to Hermione and across from Harry. Seamus was not there, which Ron questioned in the back of his mind; Harry and Hermione looked as though they were amid a serious conversation. Ron broke that up by exploding greetings at them and piling his plate full of food. Grinning sheepishly, he paused briefly to give Hermione a quick kiss on the cheek. She, however, was still looking intently at Harry, who returned her stare uncomfortably. He looked ruffled, as though they did not agree on a circumstance but not to the point of argument.

"Oi, what's this?" Ron gestured at the two with his fork, emptied of eggs. "What's going on?"

Harry nodded to Hermione, spreading a soft smirk across his face. "Don't worry about it, Ron," Harry snapped.

Taken aback, Ron widened his eyes at Harry's aggression. He could not believe how his friend had just lashed out; it was not like him. Apparently, whatever conversation they engaged in soured him greatly. They must have been talking about Seamus, Ron concluded.

"Sorry," Ron stated, turning to Hermione. He lovingly rubbed her back, trying to elude Harry's anger.

"Yeah, at least _you _are," Harry growled, staring back at Hermione still. He jolted out of his seat, grabbing his bag and strutting out of the Great Hall.

"'Mione, what'd you do?" His suspicions rose at Harry's actions.

"I was just-" The explosion of owls carrying the post to their owners interrupted her. Fluttering overhead, Ron gazed up at the tiny speck that was his owl, Pig. Tipping Ron's glass over, juice gushed across the table; Ron struggled to conceal the spill while Pig bobbed merrily in front of him. Throwing his drenched napkin onto his plate, Ron picked up the letter that lay out in front of him. Unrolling the parchment, he raised an eyebrow at the sender's name. _Fleur Delacour_. He gulped, recalling his encounter with her during fourth year. Just before she left Hogwarts, during the Triwizard Tournament, she had kissed him. Shaking his head, he attempted to return to reality; he cleared the foolish smile that appeared on his face. Ron blinked, hoping he was hallucinating; unfortunately, it was true. _Fleur Delacour_. He reread her signature, and then went through the letter twice over; he could not believe his eyes.

"Ron?" Hermione questioned, beckoning his attention.

"'Mione," he gulped. "It's from Fleur. _Fleur_. Er…she was wondering what I am doing this summer. She's taking a holiday in-" Ron cringed at his words and inflection; he knew what it was like to receive this information from the one he loves. Swallowing his hormones, he returned his thoughts back to the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Hermione was shaking her head, almost a grin spreading across her face.

"Ron, let me explain-" She started, but he cut her sentence off.

"'Mione, I'm not completely stupid. I understand what she is saying," Ron looked insulted by Hermione's manner.

"No, Ronald, you _don't_. You see, this is what I have needed to tell you. That's not from Fleur," Hermione stopped at this point, preparing to let him down gently.

Sniggering rudely, Ron continued, "Oh yeah. _Right_." Sarcasm iced his tone and caused Hermione to stir at his side.

"No, Ron. Listen to me!" She protested, but he was now raging once again.

"I forgot. No one could possibly like me, eh?" Ron glowered at her, not believing how jealous she was growing. It was not that big of a deal. "I suppose you expect me to believe someone wrote me this posing as Fleur." He rolled his eyes in ignorance.

"Yes, actually."

"Yeah, it's Malfoy, ain't it?" Ron chuckled.

"He's trying to come between us!" Hermione howled, but she realized how unbelievable this must sound to him.

"'Mione, you're making me blush. I know I'm ruddy beautiful, but…" Ron, slicking his hair back arrogantly, moved away from her and grabbed his bag, now out of his seat. He could not take any more of this; he had to get away from her before his rage dethroned his reason.

Hermione watched him stagger out of the Great Hall; she longed to strangle the next person she saw. Unfortunately, it was Malfoy; he glanced over his plate at her, worry brewing in his facial expressions.

* * *

Stalking down the corridor, Draco clasped his fingers tightly around his wand; he knew that he could not get caught. At this point, though, he was lost in the hurricane of love, his whole thoughts in disarray. He spotted the figure ahead of him, and a glint in his eyes displayed Draco's madness. I'll take care of him, Draco told himself, it's over. Squinting, he took in the scene of Seamus, standing there staring off into a darkened area. He's mental, Draco concluded. This reassured him and he now knew he was doing everyone a favor by assaulting Finnigan. Just as he lifted his arm behind his head, a curse repeating in his silence any screams of surprise and turned to meet eyes with his attacker.

"Wha-?" he mouthed, confusion enveloping his brain.

"You can't do it," Hermione whispered back, breathing softly to minimize the noise. "I won't let you."

He just stared at her, unable to move any of his limbs. He felt completely numb and could not comprehend what she was saying.

"Seamus is not who you need to confront."

Glimmering eyes washed over him, and Draco shivered in delight. Harry was looking him over, and he reeled in glee. Draco would not mind Harry seeing every bit of him, and in fact, yearned for the night to come. But, it would not happen; not now.

"I just don't know." Draco frowned at her, still undecided as to his actions.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head back, as if to face the stars. Snape's classroom, however, was no place to stargaze. Draco searched heatedly for any piece of parchment or quill he could throw at Harry, to get his attention. Snape would surely thrive off of Harry's mistakes once again.

Draco surrendered to the light, and glowered at Seamus; violence was such a hard thing to conceal. Shouts gained Hermione's attention, and the two gasped as Ron thundered full force at Seamus. Ron rammed Finnigan and pinned him down hard on the floor.

"Bloody hell! Who do you think you are?" Ron growled, and the two wrestled, trying to overcome the other.

"He doesn't know. He _won't_ know!" Seamus climbed on top of Ron, grinning cruelly. Seamus placed a casual kiss on the tip of Ron's nose, maintaining his calm. Ron freed his hand and clawed into Seamus' face, struggling to push him away. Disgusted, he kicked Seamus hard and watched him roll in pain.

Harry never looked so gorgeous before; his skin was lightly tanned but retained his beautiful tone nonetheless. His eyes gleamed in seductive emerald, and Draco gripped his desk with both hands. Snape swept toward Harry's desk, and Draco could not contain himself.

"Professor," he called, hoping to override Snape's desire to mentally throttle Harry.

Spitting in Ron's face, Seamus towered over him and groped for Ron's collar. Quickly finding his best bet, Ron swung his leg forcefully into Seamus' foot, causing him to tumble. Ron climbed back to his feet, and readjusted his shirt coolly. Raising his sight, he saw Draco gleaming at the fallen Seamus, and Hermione. The two stood illuminated in the light; Ron wiped the blood off his chin, and clambered over to them.

Snape stood over Draco, a displeased look smeared underneath his greasy hair.

"Malfoy?" Draco shifted his eyes wildly, unable to focus on Snape. He sunk deeper into the darkness, losing sight of his peers by lowering himself in the seat.

Hermione pulled the injured Ron into an embrace, tenderly caressing around the wounds on his face. They stood there, in utter silence, clinging to one another as though the walls were crumbling around them. Draco could not help noticing how brightened their faces were, though they frowned; he could not escape the fact that they kissed in the dimly lit corridor. His face fell, and he mentally scolded himself. How could he be so selfish? This was not what had to be done. Replacing his wand back in his robes, he directed himself back toward his room, exiting the corridor, along with the candles.

Draco dropped the slender wood that he held to the floor, and grimaced at Snape's concern.

"Mr. Malfoy, is there a problem?" Snape remained opposite Draco, eyeing him over the desk.

"Not anymore," Draco smiled, strangely enough, as he nodded to himself.

* * *

Harry changed positions swiftly, leaning back into the comfort of the sofa. He returned Ron's silent gaze, wondering what was troubling his mate. Whenever Ron did not share with him something, Harry succumbed to nerves. They rarely kept anything from one another, and if they ever did, the secret devoured the victim.

"Ron?" Harry held out his hand, offering his support. "Tell me."

The redhead crossed his arms, as if to reject Harry. "What?" He asked, hoping his mate could not detect his false naivety.

His friend responded with a glare; Harry was insulted that his friend would not let him into his problems. "C'mon," he lured the truth out of Ron.

"Remember when you first told me?" Ron asked nonchalantly, as if Harry could not remember last week.

"Yeah."

"Well, I questioned your choice. I asked you if there was _anyone_ else that you might consider."

Harry wiped his brow, he felt his temperature rising. Ron could not possibly know, could he? Harry gulped, trying to satisfy the thirst that conquered his throat. Harry wanted him, it was not just a phase; it was going to torment him. Does he not owe his best mate the truth?

"What about it?" Harry fiddled his fingers, giving himself a distraction from the impending doom that hovered over him.

"Well, you never really answered me. You just continued on about…_him_." Ron opened his mind to Harry, and said the last word with a hint of disdain.

Harry nodded, his thirst inhibiting any speech. I should just tell him, act as if he does not know, Harry demanded. Just let it out, he's supportive of you.

"Well?" Ron was reluctant to directly question Harry's feelings.

"Ron, I meant to-" Harry choked, Seamus in his sight. Finnigan was now gliding across the floor of the common room, levitating towards Harry.

"Look, you can tell me. I'm your mate, remember that? Please."

Harry sat there, gaping at Seamus open-mouthed. He did not want Seamus to hear the truth; the young lad would surely hunt down the blond. Ron pried into Harry's eyes, peering into his worries.

"What did he do?"

"Ron, where did you get those?" Harry spoke his mind, motioning to his wounds.

"It doesn't matter."

"_Ron_."

"Fighting for you," Hermione answered, appearing at Harry's side.

Ron admired her, taking in her appearance but still maintaining his conversation with Harry.

"Oh no," Harry shrieked, "What happened?!"

"Look Harry, whether you like it or not, I know. I figured it out."

* * *

Reviewing the words that soiled the parchment, desperate hands trembled in fervor.

_Only the taste of you seduces me_

Squinting into emptiness, he saw the green eyes ignited with urge. Emeralds grew wide; he mounted his lover and slyly tugged at the dark tufts of hair. His lips encompassed the others, muting any screams the unfledged orbs manifested. The greens darkened, no longer shimmering as they once had. He felt resistance underneath him, being knocked off his lover. Crawling back, he slapped the greens, which was answered with more struggles. He seethed at the other's restraint, and slammed the dark-haired head into the ground. The unseasoned finally succumbed, and allowed him to take control.

_Only your purity is what I need_

Harry's green eyes filled with unwavering tears as Seamus removed his pants. He never felt so violated before; he now realized his mistake and ignorance. He strangled his yells, knowing they would only cause him more pain. Seamus bit down on Harry's neck, and he could feel the shooting pain. Jolting, Harry managed to remove Seamus' teeth; he groaned as he placed a hand over to stop the bleeding.

_You can change me like nobody else_

Seamus was not how Harry knew him; he was now crazed. All traces of love dissolved from Seamus' figure, and Harry did not feel the gentle touch he had come to know. I cannot change with you, he thought. He was not concerned with the physical, as Seamus was obsessed with it. They were devoid of any relationship, and all concern for one another evaporated with Harry's innocence. Seamus robbed him of his dignity along with his purity.

_Just promise to change with me_


	12. Echoes of Former Truths

**Chapter 12- Echoes of Former Truths**

Lying on the floor, Harry drew in deep breaths; his entire body pierced with pain and he could not move. He felt extremely abandoned, defenseless against his peer. Harry clutched the back of his head, feeling a thick, warm fluid pour over his fingers. He was bleeding from when Seamus threw him back on the ground. He never pictured himself in such a position before; the boy Harry thought he had known had transformed into a monster. No longer were the days where they would both plan for secret meetings at night; Seamus had become much more demanding. Harry shook his head, feeling it throbbing, but to no avail. He needed to get back to his bed before Seamus returned; though he had risen in silence and made his way back to the common room, Harry had doubted that this was finished. Raising up to a sitting position, the walls swirled around him; his head felt so heavy and Harry could not regain his bearings. Dizziness overcame him, and Harry slowly lowered himself back on the ground. He felt like lying there until the darkness overtook him; Harry was so helpless he feared what Ron would say when he made it to his bed. His mate would surely suspect something, and Harry was in no mood to review the events of the night. Harry wrapped his arms around himself from the chilly air; he spun in all directions, feeling as though someone was watching him. Stifling back tears, he sniffed and sat up once again. I have to get out of here, Harry concluded. If anyone were to find him, he would have to explain himself; Seamus would not be pleased. Standing on his feet, Harry wobbled toward the stairs; he needed to collapse in the security of his bed, where no one could reach him. He stood, petrified at the thought; Seamus would be there. He blinked, trying to clear his sight from salty tears, and contemplated his actions. If he went back there, what were the odds that Seamus would assault him again with all his mates there? On the other hand, Seamus knew what he wanted, and obviously was not reluctant to stoop low to get it. Everyone would be sleeping, and Ron was the heaviest sleeper Harry knew. Screams and moans would not wake him; nothing sort of his hair catching on fire would stir him from sleep. Hermione would be dozing, long done with her homework and studies. Harry was alone, with no one there to stand up for him.

* * *

Waking with a start, Draco fell from his four-poster in alarm. His head screamed in pain, and he buried his face back in his pillow for comfort. Trembling, he clawed at his hair, searching for the source of torment. He bit his lip; Draco's mind pounded fiercely, and he could not bear it. He was unsure of what to do; peering through the crack in his curtains, he saw no stirring in the common room. Isolation seized him, and he struggled to focus on thoughts. This is not good, he thought. It was apparent that Draco was still weary from sleep as he slipped out of his bed; he tripped through the room. Applying pressure to his temple, he furrowed his brow in aggravation; he needed a walk to soothe his mind. Whenever Draco was experiencing headaches or other ailments, he always sought refuge, wandering around the school grounds absent-mindedly. Unfortunately, he could not help but wonder what caused such intense throbbing; he was having many problems so early in term. Usually, Draco would shake off such trivial aches; he had grown used to their recurrences. Tonight, though, Draco feared that this malady would never leave him. Leaning against a wall down the corridor, he rested his whole body; he felt incredibly weak, but he fought against it. You are only as weak as you think, Draco reassured himself. Inching along, he reached the entrance hall and tripped over a darkened figure, falling flat on his face. "What the bloody he!" he was cut short by a fierce blow to the face as he reached the floor. Crawling, he turned himself around to face what cost him his balance. His eyes grew wide in shock, and he forgot completely of all tingling he felt, except for that in his stomach. 

"Harry?" he whispered in surprise, and drew close to the other, "Harry!"

Harry pushed himself upward with his arms, and he raised his head to face Draco. "Er…" Harry felt his face glow red, and he quickly wiped over his face in attempts to remove all trace of blood.

"What happened?" Draco reached over toward Harry, placing a trembling finger to Harry's chin. Examining the fallen Gryffindor's face, Draco grimaced in pain.

"Don't worry about it; I've just fallen over, that's all," Harry tried to ease Draco's anger.

"Yeah, not for the right one though," Draco mumbled softly, just over his breath. To his surprise, Harry heard his comment and nodded weakly.

"I suppose you could say that," Harry fought to climb to his feet, but sunk down to the ground.

"Here, let me help you-" Draco gradually rose to a stand, and offered his hand to Harry. Gingerly clasping his strong hands, Harry regained his footing and paused, staring deep into Draco's concerned expression. At a loss for what he had done wrong, Draco cleared his throat and dropped his gaze. Harry let go of Draco's protective grasp; fixing his hair casually, he glanced past the blond.

"Well, thanks Malfoy," Harry coughed mechanically, changing his tone from beaten to strong, "I'll see ya." Turning, Harry limped nonchalantly over to the stairs, intent on getting to his bed. Draco watched longingly after him while silently cursing himself. Obviously, Harry was not comfortable with him and Draco succumbed to the piercing in his head.

_I can't stand being viewed as weak; I don't want any pity from anyone._

Draco slapped his head, forcing any thoughts to scatter. He was always left in the dark, isolated from those he loved the most; why would tonight be any different?

* * *

Draco woke to the sound of his own violent sobbing, and he shivered under the sheets of his bed now chilled with sweat. Coughing loudly to stop from sobbing further, he threw the covers over his head to hide from his roommates. After so many years hiding himself among the others, falsely playing up to everyone else's expectations except for his own, Draco did not want to give himself away over a nightmare. Contemplating the source of his fear, Draco wiped his brow at a loss; he could not recollect what had passed through his mind. Doom weighed heavily on his conscious, and Draco sensed that wrong had occurred. Was it Harry? No. He did not expect Seamus to be so exceedingly horny as to attack him once again. He knew it was nothing to do with the Slytherins, as he would not feel fear if horrendous events effected his house. His indifference was shocking, and very hard to conceal when in the presence of anyone else. Draco was confused as to what he was sobbing about; normally when he felt such a strong wave of emotion it followed up fear for Harry. Draco never responded on the emotional level to any plight not directly related to Harry; he supposed it was a trait he developed living in his household. Draco believed nothing would affect his father in the least bit; Lucius was strictly concerned with the success of the Dark Lord. In all truthfulness, Lucius was more concerned with Voldemort than that involving Draco or his mother. It sickened him that as time wore on, he became increasingly like his father. Something that always caused Draco to restrain himself from Harry was that he wanted to offer the Gryffindor true love. Harry suffered far too much, and Draco did not want to pursue him without being able to love him, as Harry needed. Kicking off the sheets, Draco grabbed a different blanket and threw it around him, rubbing his arms for warmth; he had to figure out why he felt so paranoid. Draco always experienced pain after worrying; his gut feelings never disappointed him, having some truth in them. Heaving a sigh, Draco could not help but feel as though part of his memory had been erased – the part he needed the most.

* * *

Creeping through the portrait hole, Harry combated his fears by trekking through the desolate common room; he grew nervous with every footfall. He expected Seamus to come stalking towards him, whipping his belt off in desire. Shaking the image from his mind, Harry slipped through the doorway into the dormitory. Cautiously tiptoeing across to his bed, he peered over to Ron's bed; the curtains were thrown back haphazardly and the sheets were strewn all over the place. The bed stood vacant, and Harry felt uneasy as he shifted around, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. It's not what you think, he reassured himself. Ron is probably off somewhere snogging Hermione. He grinned at the thought of his friends' happiness; unfortunately, what Harry thought was somewhat of a healthy relationship turned into an abusive one. He sniffed, feeling vulnerable; he longed to hang out with friends in a far off place. Harry could not feel comfortable in the silent dormitory, especially with Ron absent. He felt overly drowsy, and could not recall the last bit of the evening. Maybe Ron told Harry his plans, he was unsure now; all Harry could remember was Seamus' reckless disregard for Harry. Falling back onto his bed, Harry wrapped the covers all around his body, as if to ward off all possibilities of a continued assault. He could not bring himself to draw the curtains, though he wanted more than anything to hide; Harry needed to drop out of existence for a time. He shrank in his bed, determined to stay awake until Ron returned from his escapade. Lulling into a dream state, Harry slipped into a calm sleep; he sought comfort in his dreams, and all worries of Seamus or Draco disintegrated.

* * *

Ripping away the sheets and tearing the curtains aside, Ron felt his heart beat quicken every second. He jumped out of his bed, noting that Harry's was still neatly made; obviously, Harry was having a good time. Running nervous fingers through his hair, Ron took up his glass of water and downed it. Still shaking, he descended the stairs to the common room; he saw Hermione hunched over her studies, fast asleep. He rushed to her, and shook her awake to confirm reality. 

"'Mione?" he questioned softly, sitting down next to her on an abandoned chair. "'Mione!"

"Mmmm…?" she raised her head in confusion, taking in Ron's urgency. She quickly wakened, and blinked away any remainder of sleep. "Ron? What's wrong?"

He sniffed, no longer able to avoid crying. Ron pulled her close to him, locking her in a tight hug as though he would never let Hermione go. She pulled away from him after a beat, caressing his cheek in comfort.

"Ron? What's going on?"

He eluded her questions, and continued to wear his frown as he searched for any fear in her eyes. "Are you okay? I mean, is everything alright? Nothing you want to talk about? Anything?"

"Ron, I'm fine," Hermione answered, adding softly, "But you don't seem to be."

"Oh…right," he calmed himself, readjusting his appearance to match her serene demeanor. "Nothing is wrong." He nodded in compliance with his words and grinned at her.

She continued to look concerned, and drew close to him, squinting into his facial expressions. "Are you sure, Ronald?"

"Yeah, now I am," but at this he started crying uncontrollably.

"Ron? What is going on? Please tell me."

"I'm just so happy you're okay," he choked out in between sobs.

"Well yeah, me t-" she started, sarcastically, but only to be interrupted by Ron.

"I-I love you."

* * *

Harry cowered in a desolate corner, pouting as Seamus pursued him further. Pinning the dark-haired boy against the wall, Seamus rustled Harry's locks playfully. Harry pushed Seamus forcefully, attempting to get away but to no avail; Seamus pounced on him, licking his face seductively. Peering around in complete confusion, Ron felt the wall support him as he took in the scene in its entirety. Several feet away from him, Ron witnessed a private counsel between Hermione and Malfoy. He shuddered in disgust, feeling his veins burst into flames; he was torn between the two situations he had to face. Stumbling forward, his thoughts jumbled all together, impairing his reasoning. Ron never felt so violated before; his two best friends no longer asked for his help or confided in him. Harry allowed Seamus to defile him continuously, and Hermione was getting on with Malfoy rather well, at least from Ron's standpoint. Thundering over to meet Malfoy, Ron gave a quick tap on his shoulder; Malfoy turned just in time to accept Ron's punch and gracefully fall to the ground. Ron towered over him, drawing in heavy breaths; time seemed to slow and he turned back to see Seamus' progress. Taken aback, Ron gulped in fear; Hermione replaced Seamus. Harry was booming with evil laughter, returning Ron's glare; longing to wipe the smile from Harry's face, Ron attempted to raise his feet but could not succeed. Diverting his eyes as Harry took Hermione into his embrace, Ron looked back to Malfoy. He read a clear expression of concern, and the blond strode over to place a hand on Ron's shoulder. His lips started moving as Malfoy described something in detail, a straight face accompanied with a furrowed brow; Ron could not hear the words that Draco formed. Sliding his hand down Ron's arm, Draco clasped his hand and tugged lightly; Ron accepted Draco's awkward change of character and followed. Devoid of feeling, Ron shivered at his numbness; he longed to regain his senses. Raising his gaze to discover their destination, Ron grimaced at the red tint that had paled his sight. He rubbed his eyes with the free hand, and peered down at his fingers, expecting them to be damp with blood. However, his vision still distorted in red, Ron felt nothing warm against his skin. Turning to Malfoy, he mouthed a silent plea; no words were uttered from his throat. Clutching his neck, he pondered the possibility of being deaf, but this just alarmed him further. Suddenly he doubled over in pain, coughing uncontrollably; Ron flailed his arms, groping for any security he could find. He gasped, blood pooling in his mouth; choking, Ron saw the glint off the blade tip. Shaking fiercely, he fell to his knees and wrapped both hands around the blade; it was as real as he was. Draco stood over him, patting him solemnly on the back, and Ron caught the words he mouthed. He sobbed, unable to think coherently or figure out what he should do. Harry, now right in front of him, continued to laugh in his face, with Hermione joining in over Harry's shoulder. His eyes rolling in their sockets, Ron fought off the harsh nausea that overpowered his entire body. Questions consumed his mind as he struggled to stand up; why was this happening? How could Harry do that to him? Was this a sick joke? Why was Hermione the only one that appeared in the light? The others grew dark around Ron. Wait, he contemplated, still choking on his blood; Draco was basking in light, too. Harry and Seamus were completely vanished and Ron's eyes pleaded with Hermione. She peered back, her face full of pity, as she seized the blade with both hands; Ron glanced down, and Hermione was now tugging at the hilt, attempting to pull it out of his chest. Placing an appreciative kiss on both her hands, Ron succumbed to the growing cold. Tears formed in his eyes and he collapsed on his back, Hermione holding the hilt of the sword with trembling hands; Ron found comfort in his drenched shirt. He was content with what had happened, a surreal feeling building; Ron trusted she had her reasons. All rage seeped out of him mixed with the red that now drowned him; as blood raised up to encompass his head, Ron knew there was not much longer left. The red cleared from his sight, and he glanced up into Hermione's face, as she assisted Draco in raising Ron slowly from the ground. Then the black overtook him and everything went completely dark; he cried out in aggravation, longing to see her face once again. Three simple words filled his ears and restored calm in his soul. _Don't lose grip_

He felt her embrace, as she knelt down to the ground cradling his head. Hermione shook with sobs, her teardrops falling onto Ron's face: his eyelids, his lips, his cheeks. She tightened her grip on his hand, but Ron could no longer bring himself to squeeze in response. As his breaths drew in slowly, Ron heard Draco's unformed words echo through his mind.

_You should have seen it coming_


End file.
